


Sinister x Mortal Kombat: End of Realms [Season Three]

by Son_of_Achlys



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types, Mortal Kombat - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, F/M, Gen, Graphic Description, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2020-05-07 15:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19212736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Son_of_Achlys/pseuds/Son_of_Achlys
Summary: This is the final season of Sinister x Mortal Kombat. Hope you enjoy!





	1. Time Turned Fragile

 

    Giant feet thundered throughout the Outworld marketplace, rejuvenated faces turning to shock as they raced from the jingling spurs of Erron Black. Though the emperor's guards tried to keep up, the thrill of the hunt fueled the Outworld marksman an obscene degree. "Move aside, move aside!"

    Shots rang out from Erron's revolver but they only succeeded in clearing the path as the large beast maneuvered through alleyways to try and lose him. Through dust and broken stands, Erron kept pace with the creature and fired a few more shots at its legs. One of the revolver bullets grazed the achilles and wrenched out a grunt of pain. Erron continued to pursue the stubborn beast, stepping over loaves of bread and bunches of grapes it had dropped from its stumbling injury.

    Erron knew how it moved and tracked its movements, stopping in the corner of one of the labyrinth-like alleyways to give order to one of the guards. "It’s runnin' Southeast, toward the wastes! Block it on the far side and I'll lay down traps, lead it back to me!"

    The burly guards wrapped in black bandages and bone armor, stamped with the symbol of a dragon, rushed to beat the monster before it could reach the edge of the city. They were known more for their intimidation of the commoners who threatened the rule of the emperor than chasing after monsters, though Erron always tried to push their dedication to its limit. Unfortunately, upon hearing their gurgling screams, he knew they were out of their depth. "Goddammit. God DAMMIT!"

    Erron took off in a full sprint with spurs jingling in every stomp, kicking up dust and leaving a path of vigor in his wake. Beyond that black soot, those piercing blue eyes burned with determination and his breath became irregular beneath his mask. He followed the sounds of carnage, the trail of blood and gore, to a path leading out of the city. Catching a glimpse of the beast's rusted armor, he emptied the chamber of his revolver in a series of quickshots for as long as he had it in his sights. Though a few were able to pierce its hide, most were deflected by the smaller rider on its back. "Grrrr! Leave Torr alone, bang bang man!"

    "Like hell." Seeing Torr start to go into a full, four-legged bestial sprint, he knew he was going to be faster than he could catch on foot. He slipped fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle, hearing the whinny of his Outworld horse, Sundance. The sun radiated its dark blue skin and reflected off its pitch black eyes, making the dual horns along its forehead appear more prominent. With two kicks to its side, the pair were galloping through the marketplace and hot on Torr’s tail. Hot Outworld winds chilled with his expedient travel as he holstered his revolver and pulled out his infamous Henry Rifle. He didn’t need any sights at this distance. He just needed a target.

    The chase was heading out of the marketplace and beyond the city itself, quickly opening up to the badlands on the outskirts. It wasn’t until a jagged cliff started to come into view that they all knew something had to give in these next few moments. Bang! A shot rang out from the rifle and a gush of blood danced in the air. Bang! The beast screamed in agony that echoed throughout the plains. But it continued to run, fueled with adrenaline and the constant encouragement of its rider. “Run run, Torr! Bang bang man catching up!”

 

    Erron pulled on his horse to stop, seeing how close Ferra and Torr were getting to the cliff’s edge. From there, he reloaded his rifle again, keeping it steadily aimed. Once the sounds of horse hooves dissipated, the beast and his rider too came to a stop. All four came to stare each other down but Erron was the first to break the silence. “You know that jump ain’t gonna save you. Just gonna hurt more.”

    “Leave us alone! Or we...we eat bang bang man good!” Torr roared but even it couldn’t keep up its facade for long with its wobbling legs and failed attempts to get off of all fours. Ferra stroked Torr’s cheek, wielding both anger and sorrow in her hot, trailing tears.

    “Ya know damn well what happens to thieves in Emperor Onaga’s kingdom. Only question is do ya feel lucky?” Erron’s horse snorted, as if already knowing the answer.

    They looked at each other for what felt like years, letting the whistling winds and the beating sun track their time. But, eventually, Torr took a big step back and rolled down the cliff. Erron walked his horse to the edge and watched them barrel down the jutting earth that stopped a quarter mile down. What followed after the heavy, wet thud against a few stray rocks was the agony of living. The torturous scrambling and crawling of Torr with Ferra crying for him to keep going --- it filled Erron with no sense of mercy.

     Instead, he took his time, steadied his aim and squeezed the trigger. Bang. Ferra struggled to try and put Torr’s brains back into his shattered skull, frustrated as to why the beast wouldn’t rise. For five minutes, Erron watched the rider pry her fingers into that bloody gray matter. Watched her look back at him and scream. In an instant, it was cut short with another loud bang. It was done. It was over. Erron turned Sundance around and made his way back to the Outworld kingdom with heavy gallops keeping the desert silence at bay. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     “But it was not meant to be this way. This was not the destiny of an outlaw from Wickett or of the symbiotes that scavenged the realm of Outworld just to survive. This came about due to a blot, a temporal virus that has managed to mar the very timelines I have struggled to keep balanced. Sinister Maharana is nothing but a thief, a shadow that has managed to creep into not only our realms, but billions of others. I thought little of him when he made his first appearance in the Netherrealm but he has quickly shown to upend everything I planned for these timelines.” Robed in layers of blue, white and gold, Kronika pressed her hands against the massive hourglass. Sands were in flux and her clenched teeth showed her displeasure.

    “If I may ask, Kronika, who exactly is this being? One of your rogue children? Perhaps one of Raiden’s mishaps brought to light?” Geras’ curiosity was piqued as the muscular, dark-skinned second-in-command stood patiently at attention. The power that glowed ominously from between the striations of his muscles and the focused blue pupils fluctuated with every word that Kronika spurted. 

    “He is a primordial, just like me. He existed before time was even a concept. The hourglass can not peer beyond its own creation.” Kronika turned to look at Geras with eyebrows pushing inward, lower lip begging to droop. “I remember things that I should not, Geras. Of another who bore the title of Keeper of Time. The things I see are….horrific.”

    Geras was worried, squinting with heightened curiosity. “What things?”

    “Before he became this temporal plague, this preternatural virus, he was nothing. A meager ball of flesh and limbs and filth. Crawled from the womb of Chaos. I remember titans but not our titans. Gods. Other primordials. They tortured him. They tortured him and I don’t know how long. Time did not exist for that torment.” She descended from the hourglass in her Keep, bare feet of pale skin touching down on a silver platform. “I don’t know how he got to be so powerful but it has to do with Achlys, a primordial from his time that mirrors the duties of the One Being. I can only guess he wants revenge. Control. Power.”

    “A child given the powers of a god. No maturity. Only emotion. Hm. Then how will we stop this rampant soul?” Geras rubbed his chin, thinking about it himself.

    “He is far too powerful to simply destroy. Since he exists outside of time and our reality, he will only seek to return angrier than before. So, we must do what anyone would do with a child that can not contain their rage. Seal them up until they behave.” Kronika’s worried expression soon shifted to a sly smirk.

    “Behave? You can’t possibly think of--” Geras reached out to Kronika but was batted away.

    “Just his presence amidst the timelines opened my eyes to the existence of interdimensional primordials, gods beyond the One Being. Reiko, Havik, Shao Khan, Sektor, Rain --- all fools who fell because of ignorance and misuse.” She slowly walked to Geras, pressing her hands on either side of his head. “Imagine not only governing the timelines of this realm but of realms beyond? Once he is sealed and his rage quells, when his will is broken, the power he stole from the gods can be rightfully returned. And, when all is balanced, you can finally rest, Geras. Is that not what you have always wanted?”

    Geras’ arms fell to his sides as he nodded. “It is what I live for, now. What must we do to seal him?”

    Kronika’s grin widened, showing teeth gleaming with malice. “Power. All of it.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    At the top of Raiden’s Sky Temple, hookswords clash with the wood and steel of a bo staff. Kabal’s training was undergoing constant and vigorous reworking from Fujin, much to Kabal’s dismay. The morning sun illuminated their battle while birds made themselves an audience. Though Kabal was just fine honing his skills to prepare for the coming battle, there was one thought that he always managed to spurt every other day, usually whenever he got the idea he had the upper hand. “For fuck’s sake, let’s just kill ‘em already!”

    Fujin smiled, smacking both hookswords with his bo staff and pushing them aside with a burst of wind. The blunt end of his staff touched Kabal’s neck while he balanced on one foot. “This is not a game, Kabal. If you die, you are dead.”

    “For fuck’s sake. You know, one of these days, I’m gonna get tired of that magic Hoover shit and just rush ya.” Kabal went to pick up his hookswords only to have Fujin push them a few feet further away with another small gust of wind. His rage was palpable.

    “And then you would have to wonder why you’re torn apart by F5 winds.” Fujin chuckled, starting to walk up beside him. “Might does not make right, Kabal. That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you these past three years.”

     Kabal spun the hookswords in his hands before facing Fujin. “So you want me to talk ‘em to death? Pretty sure a big fucking dragon and an old-as-balls sorcerer --- or wizard or magus or whatever the fuck he calls himself nowadays --- won’t be as diplomatic as you think.”

    “You already know why, Kabal. The Prime Avatar must be pure of heart and have the desire, above all else, to maintain balance.” Fujin rested a hand on Kabal’s shoulder. “I know you believe you’re ready to tear people apart and fight your way to the end but that’s not how the battle must be won. Through the Jinsei, I have seen many try to take down the darkness with force, even using Aether as a catalyst, only to fall terribly short. Evil must be ushered, not forced.”

    Kabal took a long, hard look at Fujin. In that exchange, the two shifted facial expressions that soon lead to Kabal realizing what he wanted him to do next. “You --- not meditation, not again!”

    “It does wonders for the spirit, Kabal! Come now, we’ve trained since dusk. We’ll have tea afterward.” Fujin twirled his bo staff, leading Kabal into an oriental-styled meditation room that overlooked the forest.

    As both set their weapons to the side, Kabal descended with knees pressed to the ground and palms resting on his thighs. “Fujin. What the hell is this Aether and Nether shit, anyway? You always mention that they’re founding forces or laws that people have to follow but you never elaborate.”

    “I told you, Kabal, Aether and Nether make up every living thing. Aether is the Quintessence, the ever-permeating force of existence. Nether is the Deathforce, the power of the dead. Both must be balanced for all to flow as it must.” Fujin had already begun to meditate, his eyes closed and position taken. “If they are unbalanced, even a bit, reality will begin to unravel the chaos of whomever initiates that imbalance. In this case, Sinister.”

    Kabal closed his eyes, snorting in frustration. “Can’t believe that purple bastard actually got a little cult going in the Netherrealm. Almost as bad as the Seidans nowadays.”

    The winds outside began to calm, almost to a standstill. Trees froze in motion and animals took a rest from their natural fervor. Fujin's voice took over the atmosphere, ominous and filled with power. "In order to defeat Sinister, in order to save the realms, you must reach beyond your bravado and destroy the ego. It has been said in legend that the Prime Avatar of Aether is selfless, virtuous and utterly consumed by the desire to maintain balance. So much so, their physical bodies are burned away, given new ones held together by their beliefs alone."

    Though less ominous, Kabal's voice carried a slight echo. "So, you want me to be Buddha. That it? That's what I'm hearing. Look, I told you years ago that I'm no saint. I don't know why you keep pushing this. I'm a fighter. A killer. I ain't your Savior."

     Sunlight was exchanged for a white light that bathed the temple and devoured all but Fujin and Kabal. "You still doubt yourself, even after our previous discussions. Do you refuse to go forward out of fear? Of burden?"

    While Kabal replied, a soft-spinning orb of cyan energy was pushed toward him from Fujin. Kabal reached out to try and grab it, immediately feeling it's intense heat and vibrating structure. Within seconds, he was sweating profusely in his efforts. "It just ain't me, okay? I got dealt a bad hand, fought for my spot and ended up in this shit. I appreciate you healing my face and all but---"

    Fujin looked on as the orb started to settle in Kabal's palms, holding it carefully rather than grabbing hold of it. "I did not heal you, Kabal. The Jinsei, the Aether, that is what healed your ailments. And it was only through you being a good recipient for the element that it happened without incident. It is ready for you but you need to take the reins and step into who you are."

    Kabal's hands started to crackle and sizzle from the heat, forcing him to release the orb and watch it fizzle out in a mighty flash. Hands clenched and eyebrows arched with the greatest of frustration. “I can...I can feel it when it’s coursing through me. Like it’s choosing different points in my body or spirit or whateverthefuck. But then it’ll hit this one spot and it just burns. It’s like trying to contain an inferno. No. Even hotter. Then I just let go because it’s just too fucking much.”

    Fujin reached to place a hand on Kabal’s shoulder. “You were able to hold it this time, at least. Do you remember when you first tried to touch the pure source?”

    “I’d rather not look like a barbecue again.” Kabal exhaled and removed Fujin’s hand from his shoulder, setting his own in his lap. “Now, we gonna meditate or not?”

     Fujin returned to his position, eyes closed but with a single brow raised. “Mm. Adamant about progressing this time. What are you focusing so intently on?”

     Kabal replied with a smile.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Four feet stepped off of a river boat, thick in the mist of Shang Tsung’s island. Two men, Takeda and Kung Jin, carefully examined the rejuvenated palace while readying their weaponry. Humidity was held together with a sickly mixture of damp floral scents and steaming blood, only further adding to the ominous blood orange sky. Fluttering insects hovered along murky waters as the random ebb and flow of absolute silence was broken by the intermittent cry of birds. And yet, their eyes remained on three foreboding shadows at the end of the long dock.

     Takeda, though young, remained steadfast. From the neck down, a flexible onyx exoskeleton lined his muscular body, pulsing with a purple energy through translucent lining. His hazel eyes matches the fire of the orange headband tied around the roots of long black hair. His mouth was covered with a metallic mask in the style of a skeletal jaw. Lashing out from his suit’s arms were two steel whips, lined with durable razors on either side and glimmering with the same purple energy. When they retracted back into his suit, he started down the path.

     Kung Jin followed close behind. He was dressed like a thief, in shades of black and brown with only his eyes peering through a dark hood. While bow and arrows rested on his back, one hand rested on the razor chakram attached to his waist. Though his eyes carried the same solemn expression, uncertainty intermingled. “Takeda--”

    “Quiet.” Takeda continued to take the lead with heavy, forward steps, his body confident in every movement. Soon, the silhouettes at the end of the dock were revealed in the light. They were dressed in basic monk attire, their hair shaved at the front with the rest braided down the back of the neck. In the middle of the shaved area was the letter “S”, inked into their flesh with identical smudges as if someone swiped the fresh ink with their thumb. Flecks of green flashed in their eyes as they examined the two new arrivals. 

    “From whose kingdom do you hail?” One of them stepped forward, their voice raspy and reeking of the swamp.

    Takeda flexed and clenched fingers of one hand over his heart before tapping his exoskeleton, the lines of purple energy converging on the demanded point. In moments, they formed a dragon symbol. “Emperor Onaga’s. We hail from Outworld, sent to discuss a treaty reform with the Magus.”

    “The treaty was agreed upon by the Four Kingdoms three years ago. There have been no alterations of it since then. Why has Onaga sent you with such an odd request?” The other two monks stepped forward as well, backing up their comrade’s questioning.

    “That was back when the realms were in shambles. Now, let us speak with the Magus. I am quite sure he would not appreciate an event similar to the Blood Coup in Orderrealm happening on his doorstep.” Takeda’s eyes darted between the monks’ eyes, remaining long enough to force the point.

    Though there was a moment of resistance, they stepped from Jin and Takeda’s path. The two ornamental front doors creaked open, introducing a throne room of ornamental gold and Chinese designs. There was a path made of calligraphy, running down the center, that lead to an elevated seat. A small army of monks stood frozen on either side of the pathway, turning from the entering Takeda and Jin to the robed figure seated atop his throne. Smooth, tanned skin was stretched into a smile as he heard the two approaching. His voice carried the same poison it always did.

    "Welcome to my island,  _ ambassadors _ ." Shang Tsung was frighteningly immaculate. Black strands of silky hair flowed freely along his shoulders and his eyes radiated with green magic. Gold anklets and bangles adorned his muscular frame while a red tang suit was draped along the rest of his body. A hand came up to stroke the thick trail of hair hanging from his chin as he stared at the two. "What do you wish to discuss with me?"

    “Emperor Onaga wishes to alter the treaty regarding immigration in Outworld. Now that the realm has repopulated, all those from other realms will not be allowed within the boundaries of the kingdom unless approved by the emperor personally.” Takeda tapped his chest, prompting purple lights to beam out and converge into a holographic contract. “Furthermore, any residents of the realm who wish to transplant themselves to another realm must also be approved to leave by the emperor and questioned so as not to allow disingenuous behavior.”

    “Ah, you mean spies. You both must feel lucky that your emperor was so gracious as to allow you from Earthrealm instead of training under me." An ornate cup filled with green tea materialized into Tsung's hands, surrounded by an eerie glow. He took a deep inhale of the fragrant fumes before laughing. "Why was it that you bothered to risk your lives to prove yourselves to that lizard instead of remaining here in Earthrealm?"

    "Magus, we're not here to talk about our immigration." Takeda furrowed his brows.

    "You're right. We're not." Tsung took a deep, slow drink of his tea while his monks started to surround Takeda and Jin. "You're not here for the emperor, either. You've never even been to Outworld. If you had, you'd know that no treaty discussion is made without the presence of all four Kings. I'll admit, you were close with the coloring and symbols. You even managed to withhold your hatred long enough to speak with civility. But nothing gets past me."

    "How about an arrow, you bastard!" Jin readied his bow and arrow with an unusual fluidity and quickness, shooting a barrage of arrows at Shang Tsung.

    Tsung snatched up each arrow with supernatural speed, bundling the arrows in one hand while the other lifted the tea cup to his lips for another sip. "You two are staggeringly underprepared. Don't make taking your souls this easy."

    "Shit!" Takeda's emotions poured out as his deadly whips sprang from his wrists, slashing through Tsung's monks. "Jin, enchant your fucking arrows!"

    "Arrows aren't gonna work!" Jin pulled the chakram from his waist and bolted toward Tsung, decapitating monks along the way. "Gotta take him head on. It's the only way!"

    "Goddammit, Jin!" Monks were hurled from his whips, their organs fluttering along the razors edge as he chased after him. But they both realized the error of their ways the very moment Tsung pointed a finger at them.

    "Waga Zamfumana pae!" Green lightning raced from his fingertip to envelop their bodies, slowly aging them in the process. They screamed in pain from the shifting of bone and sensation of helplessness. "Your souls are mine!"

    Tsung's monks froze in place, as did Jin and Takeda. The soul-draining ability was halted, just like the steady breeze outside and the swaying of the trees. From the front doors came Kronika with Geras pushing away the monks who were caught in time. "You, of all people, should know that the souls of these youths are paltry compared to what you could have."

    "The Goddess of Time?! Why do you impede my business?" His finger moved to point at Kronika and Geras with a widening smile. "Is this an offer? A sacrifice, perhaps, in exchange for saving these two?"

    Geras moved to approach Tsung with cracking knuckles but Kronika extended an arm to stop him. "Your arrogance, while fitting, can be tiresome, Shang Tsung. I have come to speak with you about a threat which needs to be dealt with immediately. The current King of the Netherrealm."

    Tsung retracted his finger and leaned back in his throne. "Sinister Maharana. Yes. He's been an occasional nuisance but the Kingdom Accords were set in place to ensure that he would remain there. We give him annual offerings and he never sets foot in any of our realms. Likewise, we leave him be."

    "Do you really believe someone with that much unchecked power can be subdued with your archaic diplomacy?" Kronika chuckled, beginning her approach to Tsung's throne. All the while, she moved frozen bodies herself. "That thing came here for a reason and it will not leave until it merges the realms. Placating it will only serve to entertain until, eventually, it resumes its mission. I have foreseen this and you are one of the first to be assimilated, Shang Tsung."

    His chest began to drum with a bead of sweat breaking down his forehead. "Even if he were to violate the Kingdom Accords, he would never be able to stop Hotaru, let alone myself. Aether keeps him in line and it is something the other Kings are well versed in. The moment he tried to create an insurgence, we would incinerate him and enslave him."

    "Destroying him does nothing but bring him back with a greater rage, one you could not hope to handle. However, I do agree that he should be trapped. Sealed, as it were, so that we can best see fit how to utilize him. The One Being was split with the help of my children, so someone like Sinister should be relatively easy to do the same with." Kronika rested her hands on the shoulders of Jin and Takeda. "But we need all the other Kings to help do so."

    Tsung's face leaned back further into the shadows of his architecture, darkening all but his eyes. The glowing green orbs darted from side to side, observing a meandering shadow during their discussion. "Have you spoken to the other Kings about this plan?"

    Kronika shook her head. "You are the first I have come to but the others will be informed soon enough. Hotaru is a viable asset, so adhering to a scheduled meeting rather than what I've done here would play into his obsession over order and win him over more easily. Onaga will be relatively easy to coerce as long as he doesn't take an unhealthy obsession with Sinister. He already has a monopoly on Nether and the last thing we need is a doppelganger on our hands."

    Tsung's eyes started to shrink within a blackened sclera and flashed a rich blue before returning to their normal size. A pained grunt was heard across the room before the silhouette vanished. "Then you will want to expedite this recruitment, Kronika. The rats are growing bold."

    Kronika turned to leave through a golden rift with Geras. "Indeed. When I am finished, all of us will speak further on the full plan in my Keep, away from prying eyes. Until then, I suggest being very careful of whose soul you absorb. We have no idea who may be with Sinister or, worse yet, who may be one of Sinister's elaborate duplicates."

    Upon departure, time resumed and Tsung's soul-stealing was reversed by the contemplative magus, having him gesture for his remaining monks to restrain Jin and Takeda instead. "Hm. It seems circumstances have extended your lives for just a bit longer. To the Lair with them!"

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

    The Netherrealm, once anarchic and overrun by the damned, had become a harmonious hell run by Sinister Maharana. The atmosphere was constantly tinted purple with a thin miasma that imitated the innocent mystery of mist. Within that mist, the now sleeker, more muscular dark fiend was resting on a throne constructed of limbs blackened by necrosis. Fingers, toes, eye sockets and gaping mouths were harshly interconnected to keep him comfortable while he waited in silence. Seated beside him atop The muscular back of a subservient oni, was Sonya Blade.

    "Do you think she's doing okay? I know you felt that --- the Aether." Sonya's black ponytail bobbed as she fidgeted, taking time to adjust and re-adjust the tight-fitting ebony battlesuit that cut off at her shoulders. But feeling Sinister's hand come to rest against her thigh stilled her nervous gestures and prompted her to stare at him with purple eyes. They flashed along with his and comfort overwhelmed her. "You're right."

    A shadow hand ripped through the ground in front of them, clawing to bring the attached body to the surface. The other hand anchored above ground and pulled the feminine being out of an inky black puddle, sizzling. Screaming briefly, she came to collapse on her back before panting and gesturing to both Sinister and Sonya to stay back. "I'm fine just ---- FUCK that HURTS!"

    Sonya belayed her orders and rushed to kneel beside her. "I knew I sensed it. Fucking Shang Tsung! I'm surprised he didn't kill you."

    The full body stealth suit crafted by shadows began to unravel from the neck up, releasing her short black hair with a purple dyed undercut. There was sweat covering her face, dripping down blackened lips and along flesh riddled with purple veins. "It...it hurts but it goes away after a while. You know that, mom. I'll be okay..nngghh!"

    Sinister leaned over in his seat, hushing their voices with his own. "Kassandra, tell me what you learned from the magician that caused him to burn you."

    Kassandra sat up on her hands and panted through the pain, staring Sinister right in his eyes. “They want to seal you, dad. For good.”

  
  


TO BE KONTINUED


	2. One Kold Night

     “Grandmaster, no!” The scream of the Lin Kuei warrior was silenced by an ice sword that impaled his open mouth. Kuai Liang pushed away his gurgling corpse as he invited another with his freezing grip, ripping into their chest with his bare fingers. Blood froze as it spurted from their sternums and poured between teeth. With every cry, Kuai Liang’s heart grew colder. The battle-hardened assassins he had trained --- merely children. Their knowledge, experience and the will to kill the enemy fell apart against the one who had trained them, brought them in and counseled them. Their best efforts to stop him were reminiscent of a flailing dance in his eyes. Easy counters, broken bones.

     Somewhere in the midst of the extermination, one of them started to scream from the corner of a training room. Somewhere between the ruptured spleen and mosaic of broken teeth, he summoned the strength to reach Kuai Liang. “Grandmaster! What devil has poisoned you?! We are family! We are brothers! Sisters! Have you let death corrupt you like that specter? Like Scorpion?!”

     Sub-Zero raced across the darkened temple with frosted blood dripping from his garb, hand clutching the warrior’s throat. Cold mist fumed from his fingers while he stared him down. Though no words were spoken, he wasn’t so lost to his new madness that he couldn’t communicate with his fellow warrior. They shared a moment of silent tears, the warrior getting out a final plea before his larynx was ripped from his body. “Smoke was my brother, too.”

     Every movement closer to his kill was robotic, almost as if it were a job and not a task that struggled to be done. He wanted it to be over. He wanted the choked up crying to stop. He wanted their screams of agony to be done with. He wanted a time limit on his treachery. After ten minutes of wretched conflict, the icy silence he was looking for finally calmed his spirit. His face was drenched with tears, forming constant cracks and splinters in the frozen patches that tried to form along his cheeks. In the center of the massacre, between displaced organs and dead stares, he knelt. That night, he died.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     “Kuai Liang. Kuai Liang!” Scorpion shoved Sub-Zero out of unconsciousness, looking around to see that he was no longer at the temple years ago but near a bonfire in the Hengduan Mountains. Moonlight intermittently shined on his face from the clouded evening skies. “You overslept.”

     “Ugh...I’m sorry, Hanzo. The past continues to remind me of things most unkind.” Sub-Zero came to lean against the side of the deep cavern they had carved out, vision eventually clearing. His eyes moved from the half-eaten venison near the flame to damp stone beside him, coming to rest on Scorpion. He squinted at how equipped he was, as if he were ready to go to war. “Wait, where have you been since my sleep?”

     “It’s not where I’ve been but where we’re going.” Scorpion pulled out a tattered map, marking a few spots with a chunk of charcoal.

     Sub-Zero groaned. “Don’t tell me we’re storming Shang Tsung’s Palace, Hanzo. We’ll need more than brute strength and training to take him out.”

     Scorpion tapped a spot on the map with the charcoal, shaking his head. “No. We’re not going after any of the Kings. We’re going after  _ her _ . The only person who  _ did _ try to bring down the Kings.”

     Whatever drowsiness Sub-Zero latched onto was quickly shaken off by Hanzo’s implications, leaning forward with a concerned expression. “You’re talking about going after Skarlet? Do we even know if she survived that incursion? There’s scattered talk of her around the realms but nothing beyond momentary encouragement for rebellion.”

     “And we wouldn’t waste our time if I wasn’t sure. While you were resting, I decided to see for myself if the rumors I was hearing was true. During my travels, I spotted someone in the temple.” Scorpion looked up to Sub-Zero. “Your temple.”

     “What?! But it’s been aband--”

     “Supposedly. Frozen solid the way you left it. But it's been thawed out recently with people moving around in it. One of them had those signature blood trails around their eyes.” Scorpion placed his hands on Sub-Zero’s shoulders. “Whether she’s alive or not, do you really want some gang desecrating your family’s home?”

     Sub-Zero found it difficult to speak when Scorpion referred to the place as his family’s. Though the reason for the struggle was clear to Sub-Zero, Scorpion assumed he was raw about the idea of them taking the place itself, nodding to finish the question for him. The yellow-clad warrior stood to his feet, rolling up the map and cinching it within a band on his side. But Sub-Zero struggle to move from his seat. "What are we doing, Hanzo?"

     Scorpion turned, milky white eyes filled with confusion. "What do you mean? Are you having reservations?"

     "What have we done but become killers? You talked about leaving behind our klans and becoming what we were meant to be, forced to be." Sub-Zero turned to look at the crackling bonfire. It bent and flickered from chilling gusts. "But all we are doing is killing our futures. We have become vagrants, scavengers of life in hopes of what? Some twisted sense of pride?"

     "How many times do we have to have this discussion, Kuai Liang? And how many times do you acquiesce to the revelation of your own foolishness?" Scorpion's expression quickly changed to one of irritation. "There is no changing what has been done."

     "But did it have to be done?" Sub-Zero stared down Scorpion, letting the fire fill the silence. Once the embers were snuffed out by the wind, Sub-Zero inhaled the smoke.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     Erron’s jingling spurs echoed through Onaga’s throne room as he set eyes on the massive, winged emperor. Dark, dank and littered with royal design, mostly in reverence to reptilians. He had seen it so many times before, his demeanor never changed. “Caught a symbiote stealin’ from the market. Lost a few men who couldn’t handle the chase. Maybe give another thought to this whole ‘Nether’ soldier stuff, hm?”

     Onaga’s scaly fingers rubbed his chin as yellow eyes pierced the dark. “And what would you prefer? Motaro’s band of rogue Centaurians or the throng of wild Tarkatan beasts that no one can seem to control?”

     “Motaro said he’d give the whole bodyguard thing another shot as long as he and the horse boys that’re left get some of that dark juju you’ve been passin’ out to your vintage army men. As for the Tarkatans, well---” Erron patted the sheathed sword made of Tarkatan bone. “They do come in handy.”

     Onaga leaned back in his seat, wings curling about to the front. “I can’t risk forming any new alliances until Sinister is out of the picture and I have full jurisdiction over the Nether. Too many wild cards to play my hand just yet.”

     “Ya ain’t scared are ya, emperor?” Erron raised a brow.

     “Do not mistake caution for fear, Black.” His initial anger quickly shifted to a solemn disposition, the corners of his scaly lips drooping somewhat. “I can remember seeing the different Mortal Kombat tournaments, seeing different fighters from the realms wanting to protect what was theirs. Everything had a system, a way of order that wasn’t as insane as Hotaru’s. Everything made sense. But now, it feels as if everything is rushing toward something inevitable.”

     “And what would that ---” 

     Erron was interrupted by a flash of sunlight and the entrance of Onaga’s advisor, Kotal. A wall of muscle with a voice of thunder, he looked like a warrior’s gift to the Mayans of old. “Emperor, the shaman is ready for you.”

     “Not one for manners, are ya, sunshine?” Erron wiped his eyes and scowled at Kotal while  Onaga began to dismount his throne, towering over the two of them.

     Kotal simply gave Erron a dismissive glare before walking with Onaga out of the throne room, resting arms behind his back. “This way, Emperor.”

     Onaga stomped his way through a series of murky hallways lit by torches and protected by his royal army guards. “How has morale been, Ko’atal?”

     Kotal pursed his lips. “I won’t feed you falsehoods, emperor. Though the past few years have been equally prosperous for the kings, there is talk of an eventual attack. Something like the Blood Coup just a year ago. I’m afraid if we do not mobilize on the other realms soon, they may come to us instead.”

     Onaga snorted a small plume of flame. “I am not Shao Kahn, Ko’atal. My realm is mine. Whatever lies beyond it, the fools can fight over. I care not about the folly of foolish conquerors. We stand by Outworld law, our population has been rejuvenated through diplomacy, not realm-merging. There is a clear distinction that I rule this land, as it should be. But if they do come to my gates, they will be turned away. By force, if need be.”

     Kotal approached a room at the end of one of the hallways covered, not by a door, but a black tarp. Beyond it was flickering blue light that became steady the moment Onaga stood in front of it. “As you wish, emperor.”

     Onaga’s wings folded inward along his back as he approached the source of the blue light, closing the tarp back. “Nightwolf. What have the spirits communicated to you this day?”

     The Native wore a gray wolf pelt over his head, the same fur wrapped around his waist to cover his groin. The tanned muscle of his body was carefully lined in white paint, connected to his eyes. Upon opening, blue spiritual energy flowed out of him during his gaze toward Onaga. He offered no words but gestured for him to sit in the empty room, a strange almost sentient mist wafting about. 

     Onaga knelt across from Nightwolf and soaked in the silence, broken only by the shaman’s ritualistic chanting via hums and hissing. Per usual, the Dragon King knew not to interrupt him during his meditative ritual, not wanting to disrupt the information he was gathering from the spirits. Sometimes, he even closed his eyes and used the relative silence, the somewhat calming atmosphere, to meditate on his own situation. To contemplate on how his current rule compared to the previous one. Minutes later, there was a snap and his eyes opened to an open clearing. Trees rustled from the night winds with a small campfire dividing Onaga and Nightwolf.

     “Turbulence. Death. A change greater than you.” Nightwolf gives Onaga an uncanny stare, his expression solemn. 

     “What must I do to stop it?” Onaga leaned forward a bit.

     Almost immediately, Nightwolf responded with a tone of absolution. “Fate is not in your hands. Relinquish thoughts of the future. They shall only bring you pain. Become complacent of the present.”

     “The present has to extend into the future. Do they foretell an assault by one of the Kings? Tell me who and I will prepare my army to defend Outworld.” Onaga soon became restless, shedding his assured exterior.

     “You carry death like a lover when it is your superior. This body and this life are not your own. The path that you subscribe to demands insatiability and you are unable to satiate it.” Nightwolf’s words stung Onaga, his breathing steady and calm with a stare that pierced his soul.

     “You speak with such assurance, as if I had chosen the wrong path. Speak not of my fate, then. What of the Blood Goddess rumors swirling about? Are they true?” Even with the topic shift, Onaga’s tone was filled with unrest, claws idly scraping against his thigh.

     “Mm. You speak of a singular being but I see plural. I warn you, do not press for an encounter unless you have resigned yourself to fate.” Nightwolf blew on the campfire to extinguish it, plunging them into a momentary darkness. It soon faded, revealing the room they were originally in.

     Onaga stood to his feet, staring down at Nightwolf while he re-entered meditation. “From what I’m hearing, I may already be dead. But even in death, I will know victory, shaman.”

     Once Onaga left, the glow dissipated from Nightwolf as he broke his meditative stance. He rose to his feet to light torches along the wall, revealing the stone surfaces, scattered animal parts and herbs that were more orderly than his mind. A shaky hand reached out to grab cigarette, flicking open a scuffed lighter to ignite before taking a deep inhale. Sobs intermingled with his coughs, sniffling and quickly wiping his eyes to smear the intricate face paint. “Ancestors give me strength…”

     The pitter patter of an approaching creature roused him out of his depressive state to turn around and look at a gray wolf. Though its fur was beautiful, it had been mangled and matted. Piercing blue eyes stared into Nightwolf, turning its head to the side to show the heavy, rusted iron collar cinched around its neck. When Nightwolf reached out to touch, the wolf snapped its jaws at him and attempted to bite. But when Nightwolf pulled his hand back, there was no blood drawn, no marks. Instead, the wolf had hurt itself with blood dripping from its gums. Its teeth were missing. As the wolf limped out of the room, Nightwolf threw his cigarette aside and fell to his knees. His mouth gaped open for the smallest of cries and his face twisted in agony while he tore the clothing from his body. “Tokha….Tokha yuhaya mis tokhel h’anphica?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     Sub-Zero and Scorpion stood at one end of a familiar bridge, staring at the eerily silent Lin Kuei temple. There were no footsteps, no creaking boards, not even the sound of evaporating ice. The entire area was as dead as they left it years ago. However, the frozen block of ice he left it in was indeed gone. The waters had run dry and the night carried an uncomfortable warmth that Sub-Zero had issue with. As Scorpion stepped forward, Sub-Zero cautioned him. “There is no one here, Hanzo. Do you not feel that death is the only thing that inhabits this place? Besides, from the feel of it, perhaps nature removed my freeze.”

     Scorpion pushed his hand away, walking across the bridge into the temple. “Don’t let fear delude you, Kuai Liang.”

     Sub-Zero soon followed behind, frustrated. “Perhaps it already has.”

     Darkness bathed the temple more adequately than the moonlight that beamed through foundational cracks and windows. Halls were empty but signs of a previous struggle remained with dusty shards of shattered pots, broken concrete and spots of blood long dried. Every step echoed and momentarily gave way for the uncomfortably dead silence that even stray currents struggled to break. An hour went by before every room in the temple had been cased. Sub-Zero scoffed, eventually making his way back the way they came. “If anyone was here, they are not any longer.”

     “I know what I saw, Kuai Liang. They were here not more than a few hours ago!” Scorpion tried to grab him but was brushed off. “Dammit, listen to me!”

     “I think I have done quite enough of that!” Sub-Zero turned around with an icy glare. “For years, I put our pasts behind us so that we can try to forge something together. But beyond your nonsensical ramblings about being a true warrior and embracing who we are, you’ve done nothing!”

     “I saved you from a lie! From having to experience what I experienced!” Scorpion’s voice bubbled with rage, a gurgling echo developing. “My entire klan was wiped out because of yours. Mindless violence that got my wife and son slaughtered like cattle! And here you are sentimental about your group of assassins?! Why did you not speak your mind sooner?”

     “Perhaps I never left this place. There is a difference between allowing the murder of your family and being that murderer.” Sub-Zero closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Almost every night, I have that dream. I relive that feeling of taking my family from this planet, of tearing them asunder. And it makes me wonder if I’m no better than my brother was.”

     From over Sub-Zero’s shoulder came a series of muttered grunts and a blade through his arm. The blade was viscous and bloody, having no metal but a jagged edge. A hand made of blood came around to grip at his chest, tugging at the warrior’s vest. Sub-Zero turned his head to see the staggering figure of one of the last Lin Kuei warriors he had killed. With his larynx missing, his face was twisted in rage, gurgling with spite. “Ggggaaaaanddd….mmmssstttrrrr!”

     Scorpion’s spear made quick work of the zombie’s head, tearing it from its shoulders, leaving Sub-Zero to pull the blade of blood from his arm. “Stay alert, Sub-Zero!”

     Using his cryokinesis to alleviate the pain in his arm, Sub-Zero soon realized the dried blood around the temple was pulling itself out of solid puddles and walking on its own. They took the appearance of dead Lin Kuei warriors, groaning and gurgling. Missing limbs were replaced with deadly blades, spear, shields or flails, all made out of a blood that glowed with a dim energy. “It was a trap!”

     “Then they will again taste the grave!” Scorpion immediately catches fire, unsheathing his katana with a sadistic vigor. He darted across the floorboards to swing his blade through the growing mass of undead Lin Kuei, bathing his sword in blood and screams. Blood turned to vapor from his hellfire but Sub-Zero remained cold and unmoved by the situation. There was a tenseness that he couldn’t shake, standing in place with a hand holding his injury. In the midst of Sub-Zero’s indecision, Scorpion once again reprimanded him. “Kuai Liang, what are you doing?! You’ve killed them once! End them again!”

     “He can not.” A woman’s words cut through the battlefield tension. Her nails painted red, bare feet helped her saunter across the temple with an unusual grace. Her slender body was garbed in clothing both fit for a harem and a queen, shades of black and red not only coloring her attire but her flowing hair. Blood-red eyes stared down Scorpion as she came to stand beside Sub-Zero, grazing the latter’s cheek with her knuckles. “Can you not see how much pain you have caused, specter?”

     “Skarlet! I knew you and your ilk were occupying this place.” Before Scorpion could act on his suspicions, the rapid blows of Wing Chun chain punches battered his chest and sternum. Brought to his knees, Scorpion looked up to see Dairou, the Seidan Guardsman turned assassin. 

     Cracking his knuckles, Dairou brushed off his decorative clothing mixed with cloth and steel. “Yet you came ill-prepared, Scorpion. Just the same, you believe that your rage will burn through every obstacle that lies before you.”

     Scorpion tossed a leg out for a sweep, forcing Dairou to hop back as the specter rose to his feet and shook off the blows. “I should have expected cowardice from you, Dairou. Resisting Hotaru from afar, letting your family’s death go unavenged.”

     Dairou entered a fighting stance, one palm pointed away and one fist directed at Scorpion. “And here you are, making friends with your assassin. Or are you seeking revenge in your own way?”

     “Now, now. We didn’t come here to speak on the morality of vengeance. In fact, we weren’t expecting you two at all. But the fact that we lured you two here after we saw Scorpion skulking around earlier comes as but another blessing for me.” Skarlet’s hand came to rest on Sub-Zero’s injured arm, the coagulated blood starting to pulse beneath the frozen surface. “I came here for the blood of fallen Lin Kuei, hoping to understand the Cryomancers. But since I have the grandmasters of both fire and ice here, I may as well indulge. Unless, of course, you would care to serve under me instead?”

     “I am no one’s slave, Skarlet. I will burn you and your followers to the ground!” Scorpion swung his sword at Dairou but the former guardsman dodged his rage-fueled strikes with ease, stepping along the ground with an unusual calmness. One of the powerful swings was caught by Dairou’s palms, snapping the blade in two and battering Scorpion’s face with a few quick palm strikes. The two traded blows in hand to hand combat but Scorpion found himself matched with an opponent he couldn’t easily overwhelm. His hellfire portals were countered by Dairou’s own teleportation, leaving any sense of surprise off the table. Inevitably, Scorpion tried to impale him with his spear but only gave Dairou leverage.

     The razor edge of the spear was dodged, its chain quickly grabbed and yanked to slam Scorpion into a debilitating palm strike to the sternum. The sound of cracking bone and stuttered breaths brought a smile to Dairou’s face. The few moments of injury that shook Scorpion acted as catalysts for Dairou’s ruthless assault, attacking pressure points along his body and eventually sending him to the ground with a debilitating roundhouse kick. “I was trained to kill everyday without reservation as a Seidan guardsman, conditioned to bring every inch of my body into order. Your second-rate ninja skills will find no ground here.”

     “Sub-Zero! Why are you just standing there?! Help me!” Scorpion held his chest in pain, a spurt of blood dripping through his mask.

     “And just why should he?” Skarlet started breaking off the icy patches meant to slow the bleeding, his wound healing at an accelerated rate from her touch alone.

     “Silence, blood witch! Or I will burn you alive!” Scorpions words were ended with a provoking shove from Dairou, already prepared to assault him again.

     “Kuai Liang, this man killed your brother. Toyed with your mind. Forced you to kill your klan. Now, he directs you again, like a puppet, wanting you to kill anyone who would tell you otherwise.” Skarlet turned Sub-Zero’s eyes to hers while her lips brushed against his face, her voice becoming hushed. “The nightmares must end. You must restore your honor and finally live a life worthy of you, grandmaster.”

     “Sub-Zero, tear out that whore’s spine!” Scorpion’s flames started to spread, tugging at his mask while staring down Dairou. “If you do not move, you will be ash.”

     When Scorpion’s eyes darted back to Sub-Zero, he and Skarlet were already locking lips. Tears of blood started to stream down the grandmaster’s face, the dreaded sign of allegiance to the Blood Witch. When their lips parted, her tongue swirled to gather the Cryomancer’s saliva, bringing her bloody fingers to her mouth to taste what she had wanted to claim. “I believe the only person here who needs to acquiesce is you, Scorpion. Give your blood to me.”

     Out of words to express his frustration, plumes of hellfire erupted from Scorpion’s mouth toward Dairou and Skarlet. Fire lashed out in every direction as if sentient through Scorpion’s burning will, incinerating everything it came in contact with. But when the flames ceased, Scorpion was shocked to see an ice wall formed to stop him. As steam rose from the thick ice, Sub-Zero stepped around it with blood red eyes, shaking his head. “She’s right, Scorpion. She’s right about everything. You couldn’t let go of your past, so you dragged me along with you. And you used the same manipulative tactics Quan Chi used on you.”

     “And yet here you are, at the whim of this whore! Can you still taste her deceit on your lips or do you quench your desire for it with every foul word you speak?” Scorpion let his spear hang from his hand, casually twirling it. 

     “You know I felt like this before now, Scorpion. You infected me with your madness and look what it has done. You wanted me to be just like you. Now, we are both murderers with no way back.” Sub-Zero formed an ice sword from his hand, firmly grasping its handle.

     Dairou and Skarlet stepped back, leaving Scorpion to speak. “If that is how you feel, Sub-Zero, then so be it. Let us see which demon lives tonight.”

     Sub-Zero made the initial strike, slicing across Scorpion’s body while sliding to avoid Scorpion’s spear. As the specter’s blood gushed out, Skarlet summoned it to her own body, letting it splash on every bare patch of skin she could. In the throes of ecstasy, his blood rushed into her pores with an unspeakable burning sensation boiling in her veins. Her eyes glowed a bright red and the outline of the Chaosrealm Kamidogu pulsed along her stomach. Containing Scorpion’s undead rage through the forbidden Blood Magik, Skarlet was soon just as calm as she was seconds before, lapping the blood from her fingers like a starving dog. 

     Though Scorpion and Sub-Zero traded even blows, the fight leaned in the latter’s favor as he took full advantage of the damage Dairou inflicted minutes earlier. Every parry of his ice blade was followed up by Sub-Zero smashing Scorpion’s chest with a block of ice, forcing even more blood to spew from his mouth. His eager efforts to burn down his supposed ally inbetween strikes were easily diverted by a grade of ice that he had never witnessed before. Soon Scorpion was at the mercy of Sub-Zero’s brutal beating, coming to understand the horrors that the Lin Kuei suffered at his hands.

     “I have the blood I need, Kuai Liang. Finish him.” Skarlet gestured the Lin Kuei zombies to gather around as Scorpion fell to a knee. He tried to use his spear in a quick attack but Sub-Zero caught his wrist before the weapon could be launched. A deep freeze started to envelop his fingers, crawling down his arm and shutting down blood circulation almost immediately during its travel. Scorpion felt an unfamiliar burn, his vision overlapped with the facade of himself standing with the Shirai Ryu standing behind him instead of the Lin Kuei. It was only then that he realized the madness Quan Chi reinforced in him. The madness that he gave Sub-Zero. 

     “You were right, Harumi….” Scorpion’s words were eked out as his body froze over, promptly shattered by a single strike from Sub-Zero. As his pieces scattered across the floor, Skarlet curiously reached down to pick up his shattered hand. But the hand, as well as the rest of his remains, soon caught fire. The short-lived inferno incinerated his frozen corpse, leaving the Blood Queen without more to absorb.

     “Hm. Another tortured soul put to rest. Dairou, get in contact with Darrius and scope out Orderrealm for the invasion.” Skarlet started walking into one of the hallways leading to the common quarters. 

     “My Queen, are you sure that you want to do this again? You know how it ended last time.” Dairou’s hands came to rest behind his back.

     “Yes. Bloodshed and the reclamation of the Chaosrealm Kamidogu. Now, I am stronger than ever and have mastered the Blood Magik.” She turned briefly to look at Dairou with blood smeared across her face. “Any other questions?”

     Dairou shook his head and bowed to her before stepping out. As Skarlet retired to one of the rooms for rest, Sub-Zero stood there, frozen in a memory. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Sinister sat on his throne, leaning forward in contemplation while Kassandra started to approach, popping grape-flavored bubble gum. Out of her stealth suit, she was dressed down in a tight-fitting tanktop with a cartoonish image of Cthulhu printed on the front, a pair of hotpants that hugged her cheeks and some combat boots. “Still brooding, dad? Or are you doing the whole thinking thing? Ya know, I can never really tell which mood you’re in.”

     Glancing up at his daughter, his loins roiled with desire and his infamous grin stretched across his face. All it earned was a scoff from Kassandra and a few extra loud smacks of her gum. “Just thinking about what you told me yesterday. If it is true, then the Pantheon is conspiring against me in different realms, in different forms. That woman you saw might very well be Cronos in a different dimensional form.”

     Kassandra planted her hands on her hips, popping one to the side with a firmly planted foot. “Since when don’t they ‘conspire against you’? If I’ve caught you during conspiracy theory hour, I can go.”

     Sinister rose from his seat of limbs, allowing for the monstrous extension of his manhood to hang before Kassandra’s eyes. The flaccid, pulsing slab was already oozing with interest as the wall of obsidian muscle started its approach toward her. “Have you recovered from your mission? Aether can be dangerous, especially in the hands of someone like Shang Tsung.”

     Kassandra started to chew her gum faster, trying to look away from her father’s naturally nude state. “Uh...yeah. All patched up. Thanks.”

     Sinister’s hand graced Kassandra’s cheek, greeted by a visible jolt and cringing expression. “It’s a good thing you weren’t infused with such a terrible thing. My power runs through your veins, making you stronger by the day. Accelerating your initial growth was definitely a good idea on my part, don’t you think?”

     The smell of charcoal and lilacs started to rush into Kassandra’s nostrils, her arms crossed under her heavy bust. “Sure dad. Can we not do this right now? Once was enough and it was still awkward.”

     Though Kassandra wanted to move, the fumes wafting across her face from Sinister locked her in place. The pheromones were intense and utterly abusive, making her start to shake. Sinister circled her to stand and press himself against her backside, hooking fingers about the straps of her tanktop. “You of all people should know that your very existence hinges on mine. With a cleared mind, I’ll be able to more accurately plan against this threat.”

     “Whatever.” Kassandra had resigned herself to Sinister’s whims, letting her tanktop unravel and allowing her breasts to spill out for his amusement. But as his black tongue started to trail along Kassandra’s shivering neck, Scorpion emerged from behind Sinister’s throne. His katana was drawn and his body restored, swinging his chained spear around in his other hand. 

     Blank eyes stared down the pair with a chuckle. “Whether in Earthrealm or Hell, everyone is weak-minded. But my fire still burns, shadow.”

     A heavy sigh left Sinister’s lips as he gently pushed Kassandra aside, gesturing for her to leave. “Kassandra, go join your mother. I have to entertain our guest.”

     With an uncanny quickness, Kassandra adjusted her top, gave Scorpion a shrug and darted off. Scorpion stood but a few feet from Sinister, cracking his neck for the assumed fight to come. “I’ve heard of you. How you took over the Netherrealm like it was your home. Eating people. Raping women. Enslaving civilizations to be your twisted ‘family’. Common sins for a pitiful demon.”

     “And what of you? I have watched you mourn your klan and family in a pathetic way, only to end up dead at the hands of the person you tried to drag down with you.” Sinister gestured for someone to come to him but Scorpion couldn’t understand who. “Meanwhile, I am preparing to assimilate the Kings and erase this temporal threat that plots against me. And, you know, I believe I understand why you won’t let yourself die. Vengeance is something that has defined you, even before you became Scorpion. Before Quan Chi tricked you into joining him after he murdered your klan and family.”

     “What?!” Scorpion’s spear twirling suddenly stopped, letting the chain jingle idly.

     “You were used, Scorpion. And you used Sub-Zero, whether you knew it or not. Harumi would be so ashamed of you.” Before Scorpion could act on his rage, Haromi walked from their side in a black and purple kimono. With a slight paleness to her and eyes filled with flecks of purple, she looked exactly as she did the day Scorpion last saw her alive.

     Her head came to rest on Sinister’s shoulder as she spoke to him, her face filled with disappointment. “Hanzo, what have you done? I begged for you to stop. I pleaded with you to stay with me and your son. But you left us. You let your hatred drive you and, even in death, it still commands your fate.”

     Sinister’s hand took hold of Harumi’s kimono sash, pulling it from her robe and tugging the decorative cloth down her shoulders. It bundled up around her feet as her slender body was exposed to them both, making Scorpion’s blood boil. Scars from the village’s attack were visible along her neck, along her breast and near her navel. “And now your wife must be subjected to yet another consequence of your rage, Scorpion. She is supposed to be tending to your son right now but, instead, she must tend to me.”

     “Rrrraaaaaaaaagggghhh!!!” Scorpion tore the flesh from his face and the very flames of hell started to bubble up from his throat. But a sharp pain enveloped his entire chest. He looked down to see a scythe’s blade sinking into his body from behind.

     “Your rage may keep you alive, Scorpion. But considering who has you in his clutches, I hope that you can finally accept death and rest in peace. For your sake. For Harumi’s sake.” While Harumi dropped to her knees in front of Sinister, she gave Scorpion one last glance before turning her back to him. The specter turned to see a hand made of shadow come to grip his throat, the stark white eyes of Noob Saibot peering out from his dark, swirling portal. In his last moments, the leader of the Shirai Ryu was dragged into the darkness, to suffer at the hands of vengeance.

  
  


TO BE KONTINUED


	3. Law & Order

Before Kronika’s eyes, horror unfolded. In one instance, Sinister subjugated Edenia after the murder of King Jerrod and capture of Queen Sindel. In another, Sinister tore apart the Great Kung Lao with his bare hands and ripped Goro limb from limb. In yet another, Sinister observed the war between the Elder Gods and The One Being, letting his power bleed into the realms that were to be. Every potential timeline that Kronika observed, no matter how erratically she changed circumstances or wound back the clock, had Sinister drastically altering the foundation of the universe’s existence. Even with her own temporal powers, she could not remove Sinister now that he had entered.

     The Elder Goddess of Virtue, Cetrion, took notice of her mother’s distraught state as she clung to the hourglass. “Mother, have you been able to ---”

     “No. At first, I believed him to just be an extradimensional threat. A blot that was a bit difficult to erase. But, whether through powers beyond my own or with how his existence is structured, I can not permanently erase him from the timelines.” Kronika was sat on the floor beside the hourglass, hands gliding across the hourglass with a face crumpled up in frustration and exhaustion. “I need the power of the Four Kings, the Kamidogu and the Jinsei if I’m going to have the power just to seal him outside of our universe. Otherwise, he will succeed.”

     Draped in hovering fragments of earth and water, the green-skinned Cetrion started to approach her mother, bare feet calmly treading across the translucent platform. “Who is there left to speak to? Shang Tsung is already in agreement and --- wait, why do you say four? Would it not be three with the exclusion of Sinister?”

     “Sinister still has the Earthrealm Kamidogu he took from that fool Sektor. Ever since then, he has gone to great extremes to seal it away, even from his followers. Once the other three Kings are in agreement, we can plan an attack to take it from Sinister.” Kronika started to stand up, brushing dust from her dress and taking a deep exhale to help fix her demeanor. “Have you sent Raiden to gather the other energy we need?”

     Cetrion placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder, expressing a warm smile. Though malevolence was rooted in her gaze, it was easily hidden beneath her caring nature. “He is on his way to the Sky Temple as we speak. I don’t think Fujin or Kabal will bring him much issue, especially with him wielding Shinnok’s Amulet.”

     “Kronika, the spectre is no longer among the realms and Skarlet is attempting another Blood Coup. I believe this may impede in our efforts to---” Geras tried to approach, explaining the situation at hand but was silenced by Cetrion holding up a hand to him.

     “Mother is stressed as it is, Geras. Besides, we have no use for a ninja with a grudge. As for Skarlet---” Cetrion turned about to look to Geras with the same warm smile she gave Kronika. “Let us observe and see what becomes of her second attempt. If she succeeds, then perhaps she will be of more use to us than Hotaru.”

     “Do you believe the Seidan will fail?” Geras’ arms rested behind his back, keeping his eyes on Cetrion.

     But the Elder God did not respond further, instead peering into the hourglass with her mother.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     Sub-Zero silenced the screams of a Seidan Guardsman by freezing his skull solid, shattering it into pieces with a headbutt. His victory cry prefaced the deafening march of the resurrected Lin Kuei army throughout the streets of Orderrealm. The blood orange light of a new dawn shed light on the damage they had wreaked after their entry into the realm just minutes earlier --- usually symmetrical trees torn from the ground, patches of ice and blood spilled about the streets & gore smeared across the pyramid structures. Following close behind Sub-Zero, Skarlet abused the full power of the Chaosrealm Kamidogu, fueling the Lin Kuei Grandmaster’s bloodlust and elevating him to a status comparable to a demigod.

     “We have come for Hotaru! Bring us your king or die at the hands of the Lin Kuei!” Sub-Zero’s voice had a different kind of weight, as if seeking to incur fear instead of establishing his authority. The title of Grandmaster was now lost to Kuai Liang, instead only cleaving to the assassination rituals of his klan that he struggled over for so long. Each step closer to the massive pyramid in the center of the city left frozen footprints that cracked brick and split tile. His cryogenic energies had been amplified to such a degree that the other Lin Kuei warriors stood twenty feet away from him, fearing that his aura alone would freeze them solid.

     As Seidans started to rally around the enormous central pyramid, they glowed with fragments of Aether, wielding swords and spears with armor that glistened with primordial energy. Their eyes shimmered with flecks of the cyan-hued power with ferocity soon changing to disgust as they witnessed their comrades’ scattered remains in the wake of the Lin Kuei army, the opposition easily in the tens of thousands. Some of them surmised that even Lin Kuei warriors who had died millennia ago were revived, bulking their numbers an incredulous amount. But before they could get the chance to advance on them, a figure emerged from an opening in front of the giant pyramid. 

     The other Seidans stood at attention, sweating from the presence of Hotaru. His armor was polished to a mirror sheen, his hair flowed freely along his shoulders with cyan flames streaking through his normal white tresses and his eyes burned with pure Aether, forming cracks of the element along his skin. One hand unsheathed his signature naginata, extending the blade out to one side while his other hand idly traced over the four Kamidogu that lined his waist. Netherrealm, Outworld, Edenia and Orderrealm daggers were sheathed on his armor with their energies pooling into his body, granting him powers that helped him impose his ultimate order. His very presence made Skarlet gesture for the Lin Kuei opposition to stop dead in their tracks.

     “You have come so far, Skarlet. Why stop now? Surely it is not because of my arrival? You have already sicced your dogs to kill more than enough innocents. You, of all people, shouldn’t be worried about having blood on your hands.” Hotaru’s body was covered in an immaculate layer of Aether, his voice filtered with a godly bass.

     “We have come to wrench those blades of destruction from your body, tyrant.” Skarlet stepped beyond Sub-Zero, letting a river of blood flow through her fingers and the aura of the Chaosrealm Kamidogu flare up in response. 

     “And what destruction have we wrought? I am the true wielder of Aether, savior of the realms. I ended Reiko’s tyrannical rule, liberated Outworld and have abided by the accords agreed upon by the Four Kings. Meanwhile, you have disrupted the sleep of the dead for your own selfish purposes, leading them through a state of limbo like puppets on a string.” Hotaru swung his naginata out in a wide arc, propelling a wave of Aether in a devastating crescent that Sub-Zero and Skarlet were quick to dodge with the help of their respective elements. The rest of the Lin Kuei, however, fell victim to the disintegrating purity of Hotaru’s Aether, creating a blue conflagration that stretched half a mile long. “But since you have returned, you can give back the dagger you stole from me.”

     Skarlet raked the ground and glared at Hotaru. "The Kamidogu do not belong to you. No matter how much power you accumulate, you are no elder god!"

     Hotaru continued to walk toward Sub-Zero and Skarlet, his stride slow but with steps that exuded power. "Who else but an elder god can annihilate an army in a single gesture?"

     "The Elder Gods believe in true justice, not just blind obedience of the law!" Dairou stepped out from one of the bushes that was lit aflame by Hotaru's Aether flame. His teeth were clenched, bound together by the rage that boiled beneath his skin. "Tell me, where are the elders? The judges and wise counsel that you so strongly fought to maintain order for? You have enslaved this realm and are no different than that demon, Sinister."

     “Are you still reveling in the misery of your dead family, criminal?” From behind Dairou emerged a bald, dark-skinned man wearing sunglasses. Vermillion and black colored his pseudo-militaristic outfit, littered with armored pieces and revealing his muscular stature --- most notably, his arms. He stood back to back with Dairou, entering a fighting stance aimed at Hotaru, gloved hands clenching into steady fists. “Hmph. Even allying yourself with the rebel leader Darrius. You sure have fallen far from your post.”

     “So have you. You have elevated yourself to the status of god through foreign means and act with a heart of injustice, of true evil!” Dairou kicked off the ground for a flying kick to try and knock Hotaru off balance while Darrius fired a blue sphere of powerful energy from his hands. With two gestures of his arm, Hotaru broke Dairou’s leg at the knee and propelled him back with a gentle burst of Aether. Knocking the blue sphere away with his naginata, he then stepped forward with a brutal front kick that sent Dairou rocketing backwards. Flesh, bone, organs and blood littered the unfortunate path that the rebel leader traveled into his death, his body unable to comprehend the immense physical strength of the Seidan Commander. 

     Sub-Zero immediately started to formulate an orb of ice, staring Hotaru down. But he was immediately interrupted with the blinding speed of the Seidan Commander, those armored fingers tearing into his throat and sending blood gushing through his spine. However, when the blood froze into icicles in mid-air, Hotaru was bewildered and the Sub-Zero he believed was dead simply shattered into pieces of ice. Before he could realize what was happening, his back was assaulted by a hailstorm of ice blocks the size of bowling balls. The Cryomancer’s constant barrage was drawing power directly from Skarlet’s corruption, eventually tapping into the core of his power and initiating a deep freeze once he saw Hotaru bend down on one knee. Hotaru looked back to Sub-Zero while being frozen solid, smiling in response to the huffing, sweating grandmaster.

      Skarlet moved quickly to use Darrius’ pints of wasted blood as razor whips and deterred the Seidan Guardsmen with a wave of eviscerating sanguine. The blood constructs ripped through armor and shredded flesh, sending their screaming bones away from the giant pyramid. “He will not stay frozen, Sub-Zero. Step away.”

     Sub-Zero’s body was starting to drop to ungodly temperatures and even forced Skarlet to move back. His eyes were frosted over, his flesh darkening as the full power of his Blood Magik corruption empowered both him and the Dragon Medallion. The ground flash froze from the plummeting temperatures and ice crystals formed in the air around him. Though Hotaru’s icy shell was beginning to crack, it was quickly being overpowered by the multiple layers cocooning around it. The wind whipped, liquefied and solidified in a smooth process that took place in a matter of seconds.  “It is you who should step away, Skarlet.”

     A pulsing blue dome of cryogenic energy fluctuated around Sub-Zero’s body and Skarlet started to run from the plumes of icy mist that were rising from the ground, leaving him and Hotaru within the obstructing smoke. Even though Skarlet could feel Sub-Zero’s power, she remained ignorant of exactly what Sub-Zero was trying to do. Minutes later, there was a brief flash of light and the sound of blade against flesh. A seismic event rocked Skarlet off her feet, leaving her to eventually look up at a figure walking out of the smoke. 

     “You didn’t train your dogs well, Skarlet.” Hotaru came out from the smoke, blazing with Aetheric light and holding the oozing spine of Sub-Zero. The grandmaster’s face was twisted into a war cry, muscles still locked in defiance after his death. “Now, there’s just the matter of taking back what’s mine, blood witch.”

     “Why did you imprison me for killing my assassin? For bringing justice?!” Back on his feet through the power of Skarlet’s Blood Magik, Dairou cleared his way through the smoke and started approaching Hotaru from behind. “I refuse to leave this plane until I get answers on why someone as keen on justice as you punished me indefinitely for inciting true justice!”

     Hotaru turned his attention to Dairou and dropped Sub-Zero’s spine as it burned away in Aetheric flame before touching the ground. “Dairou, we’ve been fighting against your killer this entire time, yet you chose to side with them. You knew the laws, even more so as a Seidan Guardsman, yet you still acted like a Chaosrealmer when it came to handling procedure.”

     Dairou entered a fighting stance, burning with hatred. “They were my family! What do you mean...side with them?”

     Hotaru pointed to the trail of Darrius’ organs that created a bloody path out of the city. “Who do you think hired the assassin to kill your family? Who do you think would have a reason to murder the entire family of a Seidan Guardsman? The resistance hates us, just as you do now. You stand ready to tear my heart out, quite frankly, but you have never questioned why the people you side with have never addressed the incident that led you to join them. Isn’t that a bit odd? Isn’t it strange that Darrius was so prepared to break you, you in particular, out of prison and offer you a chance to fight against the Seidan authority?”

     “No….” Dairou’s stance wavered and his eyes started to glaze with the growing realization Hotaru pointed out. “Why would Darrius----”

     “He was a criminal, scum just like Skarlet who most likely knew the truth but refused to give it so that you would be easier to control with her Blood Magik. You were a wonderful guardsman who was corrupted by the slime of our realm, dragged kicking and screaming into chaos.”  Hotaru suddenly appeared behind Dairou with a glimmering trail of Aether behind his traveled path, his free hand pressed against Dairou’s chest. “But the law is infallible, invincible. It is the lynchpin on existence and can not be denied. Unlike you, I did not stray from it when chaos emerged. Instead, I cleaved onto it. Ascended into the higher echelons of order. With the assistance of the Aether, I became the law.”

     Dairou was sweating profusely from the presence of Hotaru, gritting his teeth with clenched fists. His eyes darted to try and meet Hotaru’s. “Fight with honor. Fight in true Kombat. I deserve that kind of death, at the very least.”

     Hotaru leaned in to speak in Dairou’s ear. “Kombat is meant for mortals, not gods. It is time for you to rest, fellow Seidan.”

     Dairou turned to try and rip Hotaru’s ribs out but froze when he felt Hotaru’s hand plunge through his chest and writhe about in his skull. Dairou’s body was raised into the sky, his brain crushed between the commander’s fingers, and tossed aside to twitch into an unfortunate death. 

     “Your little coup was a failure. Your army is gone, as are your corrupted fighters. If you don’t hand over the Kamidogu, I will rip it from your body.” Hotaru turned to Skarlet with bits of Dairou’s brain sizzling with Aetheric flame along his bloody fingers. “Either way, you will be purged from existence just like your foul mentor, Havik.”

     “Funny you mention him…” Skarlet came to stand on her feet with raised veins along her flesh, blood red eyes staring down Hotaru. Words came from her lips that were immediately recognized as that of a Chaosrealmer --- backwards speech with fluctuating tones and prominent jerking of the limbs. Though initially believing she was trying to cast a blood spell, Hotaru’s expression turned to one of disbelief as Darrius, Dairou and Sub-Zero’s blood rushed toward Skarlet’s body. The grip on his naginata tightened once he got a glimpse of her face flickering between the seductive beauty and the cleric of chaos himself. Smiling.

     “The parasite lives on. How depraved!” Immediately, Hotaru rushed Skarlet but was matched by the blade of her blood scythe. They clashed numerous times before they pushed one another back and the guardsman rushed her again, seeking to impale her instead. She raised multiple walls of coagulated blood while she continued to speak in the tongue of Chaosrealmers, stopping the naginata blade in blocks of blood. She swiped the walls and the weapon off to the side, disarming Hotaru before blasting his sternum with a fist empowered by Blood Magik and the Chaosrealm Kamidogu. Hotaru skid across the ground before catching himself and felt the slow crawl of blood along his lower lip.

     “You dare?! I am not some common warrior! I am the law!” Hotaru’s Aether aura blazed upward and spread out in a wave Skarlet was smart enough to retreat from. Summoning his naginata from the dense blood, he immediately started to swipe it at Skarlet with waves of Aether rushing to bisect her and set her aflame. Amazingly, the blood witch retaliated by showing just how flexible she was on the battlefield. Spinning in mid-air between dual waves of Aether, bending her spine to avoid certain death and slamming against the ground in multiple impressive splits while scooting toward Hotaru --- her amused smile sought to vex the self-proclaimed god, all while showing off her curvaceous figure.

      “Then you’ll get used to being broken.” Skarlet rose between his last swipe of Aether to crush Hotaru’s groin with her elbow, rocketing her heel up to crush his jaw while planting her palms firmly against the ground just to send him and his naginata flying. Springing up, legs wrapped around Hotaru’s head to bash his armored body back into the earth, now straddling him with blood tendrils emerging to restrain his limbs. Before he realized what was happening, a blood dagger was pressed against Hotaru’s throat. “And once the Kamidogu are mine, I’ll plunge the realms into chaos, just as fate intended.”

     Skarlet kept eye contact with Hotaru while she partially disrobed, revealing her bountiful breasts to the guardsman as her dead followers’ blood was painted across her chest, sinking into her pores to magnify her power a hundredfold. She swiped blood across her face like war paint, letting her crazed expression remind Hotaru of Havik’s maniacal smile during their final battle. Her hands eventually pressed against either sides of the commander’s head, the overwhelming power she was starting to accumulate negating the furious burning power of his Aether. Miniature tendrils of blood started to slither out from the pores of her hands, congregating to create a thick bubble of blood to encapsulate Hotaru’s head.  Within minutes, he was struggling just to stay conscious and glaring at Skarlet’s crazed laughter.

     Fury took ahold of Hotaru’s spirit, prompting his eyes to fire beams of Aether that sliced through the blood bubble and burned Skarlet’s face, causing her to scream in pain. The sphere of blood wavered, as did the constricting tendrils, giving him just enough time to free himself through force alone. He grabbed hold of Skarlet’s head to bash his skull against it, battering her face with headbutts that cracked the bone. Skarlet fell backwards but Hotaru caught her by the leg, prompting her to look back at him with a face absent of most flesh, trapped in perpetual laughter. He slammed her against the ground on the other side of his body, crushing bone and splattering blood. But the laughter continued, even through the gurgling of red liquid surging through Skarlet’s throat.

     He slammed her against the ground again, this time prompting the laughter to shift to backwards speech that seemed to be sped up. Desperate. Broken teeth grazed against her gums as she struggled to clearly pronounce the chaosrealm language. But all speech stopped with Hotaru’s final, swinging smash against the ground, her body breaking into pieces from the rage that empowered his already superhuman strength. With limbs scattred and blood pooling across the once verdant landscape, Hotaru flung her leg away from him and picked up her head. All laughter had ceased, the Chaosrealm speech was over and there was no shred of life in her malformed eyes. With a charge of the Aether, Hotaru crushed her skull and burned her remains with godly flame. The small inferno revealed the Chaosrealm Kamidogu dagger that had been locked away in her gut since her last visit.

     “Commander Hotaru!” Seidan Guardsmen started to approach him as reinforcements, finding the coast to be clear of immediate intruders. “Have the forces of chaos been defeated? Is it finally over?”

     “Almost, soldier.” Hotaru leaned down to pick up the Chaosrealm Kamidogu, taking note of the eerie glow its power emanated before holstering it with the others. “There are two more pieces that must be gathered. What better time than now to go get them?”

     The guardsman started to rally around, some of them taking in the butchery their commander incited. “Where to, sir?”

     Hotaru summoned his naginata to him and promptly sliced a hole in the space in front of him, widening the rift with a simple palm push. “We’re going to the Netherrealm. I must take the Earthrealm Kamidogu.”

     A few of the guardsmen stepped back in shock, one of them immediately protesting. “But commander, the Kingdom Accords forbid stepping into his realm, let alone causing conflict!”

     “The Kingdom Accords no longer concern me. It is common knowledge that there are hierarchies of law that take precedence, higher commands of law superseding lowly democracies. The accords guaranteed but a momentary peace so that each person could rule over their realm without fear of mutually assured destruction. But I no longer have that fear and my law is higher than some haphazard deterrence agreed upon by myself and three criminals. It is time to bring the realms into order, men.” Hotaru slammed the blunt end of his naginata on the ground, silencing all sounds but the ever-fleeting wind. “Any opposed?”

     After a few moments of contemplation, they spoke in unison. “No, sir!”

     Hotaru stepped through the rift as Aether smoldered along his armor. “Then let us end this darkness, once and for all.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Princess Kitana’s limbs were entangled along Sinister’s thick muscles beneath the luminescent shades of purple that graced their bare bodies. Striations deepened along her powerful legs as they formed a vice grip around Maharana’s waist, her painted toes flexing and curling with every powerful thrust of his hips. Her arms were cinched around his burly neck with blue nails clawing into that familiar, inky flesh. Ample breasts barely had room to bounce with the compact position of their bodies, their shallow breathing becoming rhythmic on the elevated platform of bone and wool. Flesh applauded in an increasing, sloppy tempo while their tongues wrestled and lips refused to depart.

     Smudges of black fluid and numerous coatings of sweat were evidence of their mutual conquest. Sinister was hoping to push Kitana beyond a fifth climax, adamant about satiating his ravenous sexual appetite. But as the rush of scalding seed was pumped inside the princess’ body by the pint, she broke their kiss, letting the strings of saliva fall where they may, her makeup already reduced to a poor excuse for war paint.  Her fingers stroked along his jawline before falling beside her head and into the damp sea of black tresses spread out like a halo. “Sinister, dear, we really should consider this threat that Kassandra spoke of.”

     Maharana traced that black tongue along his lips and savored the taste of his princess, feeling the excess lust pool between their legs to drench the sheets. “To do that, there would need to be a threat to consider, Kitana. The Kingdom accords keep the other Kings to their own realms and whoever this being is trying to make deals to seal me greatly underestimates me.”

     “Mm. Everyone underestimates you, Sin.” Kitana unhooked her legs and brought her feet around to push against Sinister’s chest, gaining some distance between them while she sat up along the skeletal bedpost. “But if this being has enough power to control time, they could end up undoing everything you’ve fought for so far. It would be unfortunate for overconfidence to lead you back to square one, hm?”

     Sinister swung about to rest his feet on the ground, sitting on the edge of the bed while his copious fluids started to spill out from the sheets. “The Kings are sending a middleman to try and dispose of me because they can not do so themselves. A cowardly move done to save themselves the embrace of death or the rudimentary offense of offending a list of words without power. Achlys’ Will is more powerful than any inconsequential mix of fighters that strain to resist their fate, let alone me. Trust me, they ----”

     Kitana looked at Sinister with a confused expression, seeing him suddenly look straight ahead with the sense that something was off. The flecks of purple Nether that dimly glowed in her eyes started to gleam and the gray tint of her flesh was more evident as lips bunched together in a worried pout. She shifted from her place in bed to sit beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sinister, what is it?”

     Sinister rose from the bed as Netheric flame enveloped one of his hands, his dripping manhood sinking into his malleable flesh as he walked out of the bedroom. “Get dressed and ready our forces. Wake Kassandra and Sonya. Meet in the Flesh Fields. They have come.”

 

**_[Meanwhile]_ **

 

     “Aside, demon!” Hotaru’s presence in the Netherrealm didn’t go unnoticed and the horde of Nether-infused oni was coming down upon the Seidan invasion. Though, despite the strength and numbers of Sinister’s primary forces, Hotaru culled them with the deadly swipes from his naginata. The Seidan Guardsmen in tow chopped their way through the army with weapons of their own, some of the stronger soldiers even using small bursts of Aether flame to incinerate the foul beasts. Even with the debilitating heat and humidity that whipped across the lava-soaked wasteland, Hotaru’s face was not plagued by sweat nor fear but the steadfast desire for justice. His justice. “Onward, men! Beyond the Flesh Fields and into his dark kingdom! This evil will be purged  _ today _ !”

     The Flesh Fields, aptly named due to the amount of remnants that lined that patch of land from trespassers and, in Sinister’s view, heretics, were miles long and now flooded with Oni. It was a deliberate gap created to both satiate the ravenous appetites of the demonic soldiers and create a visual warning for any who wished to try and bring harm to Sinister’s new realm. Unfortunately for the dark lord, Hotaru was lighting the field aflame with the holy element and slowly making his own path to the archaic castle in the distance. The sky swirled with shades of red and black amidst the illuminated veil of purple that blanketed the area, protesting the Seidans with streaks of lightning and booming thunder.

     But there was another burst of energy that came from the skies, one that traveled toward the ground with a trail of purple flame. Landing like a comet in the midst of the oni army, most of them cleared the path once they realized who had fallen before them, having Kassandra and Sonya emerge with their sidearms at the ready. While Kassandra wielded dual Desert Eagles with .50 caliber Action Express and Sonya handled a FAMAS G2 with one arm, a muscled man stepped beyond them out of the smoke of his impact. His eyes blazed with Nether and his once mortal flesh was intermixed with dragon skin, small claws jutting where his nails once were. The glowing Theta symbol flashed with might in the center of his forehead while he stared down Hotaru. “Give up this heretical endeavor against Lord Maharana, Hotaru! You desecrate the Kingdom Accords!”

     The Seidans momentarily ceased their combat against the oni, allowing Hotaru to speak directly with someone believed to be dead. “Liu Kang? You were killed along with Shao Kahn years ago. What authority does a ghost have to command the living embodiment of the law?”

     “I am no ghost, Hotaru and I am no longer Liu Kang.” His bare feet danced along the plains as he entered his usual, high-energy martial arts stance, the steel bangles around his wrists heating up to a simmering orange glow. “My name is Suujon Hakkdrei, lieutenant of the great Sinister Maharana, dragon who devours the light!”

     “Dragon who devours the light. Heh.” Hotaru chuckled before spinning his naginata and pointing the blade edge at him. “Then we will feed you plenty,  _ Suujon _ . Annihilate them!”

     Bullets tore through Seidan armor and eviscerated organs while holy flames continued to incinerate the raging oni who fought valiantly for their master. Kassandra and Sonya held their own against the knights of order, leaving Hotaru and Suujon to test their might in a surprising battle of the fists. Every blade strike was parried by his flaming bangles and bicycle kicks, that would have been fatal to anyone else, only made Hotaru spew blood and vitriol against this new enemy. The commander, surprisingly, met his match against the former shaolin warrior, becoming frustrated enough to try and overload the battlefield with Aether just to get a clear stake in the fight. The brutality was short-lived, however, once the dark fiend himself arrived from the castle with Princess Kitana in tow. 

     “Enough with this senseless quarreling!” Sinister’s voice boomed during his slow walk into the carnage with Princess Kitana dressed in a black and purple armored variation of her once-blue warrior attire. The oni, Sonya, Kassandra and Suujon cleared a path for Sinister and Kitana to approach Hotaru, the commander doing the same for his men. Sinister’s eyes darted from the Kamidogu that lined Hotaru’s waist to those eyes that burned with Aether and made him sweat. “I would have expected you of all people to abide by the Kingdom Accords, Hotaru. Why have you come here to shed blood when I have done nothing to Orderrealm?”

     “Your very existence plagues our realm. You are not of the realms and not of the Elder Gods. Even this place holds an unnatural allegiance to you. You are a virus that has steadily destroyed any sense of harmony we could have hoped for and corrupted innocents with your boundless iniquity.” Hotaru’s hand tightly gripped the handle of his naginata while he pointed at Sinister. “I am the law and, as such, the accords are nullified. I demand that you hand over the Earthrealm Kamidogu you unlawfully stole from the Tekunin so that order can be restored. If you do not comply, we will be forced to subject you to the death penalty for your unforgivable slew of crimes.”

     “You dare order my execution and proclaim yourself to be the law when you have bound your soul to the element of heresy?! Just like the Pantheon, you have retreated into the comfort of madness and seek to bring all others into your barren lunacy.” Sinister crossed his arms over his broad chest while Kitana fanned out her signature blades to deter Hotaru from stepping closer. “If there is any being whose words are law, it is I. Remove yourself from my realm or you shall  _ be _ removed.”

     Instead, Hotaru opted to spear his naginata blade toward Sinister’s throat, creating a domino effect where Sinister retaliated with his fingers reaching to rip the commander’s head from his shoulders. Kitana’s fan blades flourished at the prospect of bloodshed, Kassandra’s guns were aimed at a Seidan Guardsman’s groin, Sonya’s FAMAS was in the middle of turning one of the guardsmen into swiss cheese and Suujon’s fists of fury were splitting a guardsman in half with decimating punches along his sternum. But instead of a scene of carnage, it became a portrait, frozen by the power of Geras. All except Sinister, who pulled back and turned to the muscle bound servant.

     “A shame that Hotaru’s madness was exacerbated by the Kamidogu. We had hoped that he would be the one to usher in the New Era with Kronika.” A simple wave of Geras’ hand turned the Seidans to dust, leaving only Hotaru from which he slowly started plucking the Kamidogu blades. “But, just as all things in this timeline, you have incited uncertainty and panic among the inhabitants. You are becoming troublesome to Kronika.”

     Sinister hurled a punch at Geras but it was promptly caught with the servant’s dark fingers easing around his knuckles as he finished collecting the Kamidogu. “Who...who are you?! Who is Kronika?! You can’t just---”

     “I am Geras and yes, I can.” Geras ripped Sinister’s arm off down to the shoulder, flicking it away before slamming him backwards with a dense sand construct. “As a primordial, you may be immune to time manipulation but you are punching above your weight. Until now, you have been used to fighting mortals and confused demigods. But you have garnered the attention of the titans and, as such, your fate has been sealed, Sinister Maharana.”

     Rising to his feet, Sinister’s arm already started to regenerate with inky black strands of Nether lashing out to recreate its muscular architecture. “Titans?! So, then it’s true. You’re a lackey of Cronos, of the Pantheon! You’ll never gain the Earthrealm Kamidogu from me, you murderers!”

     “Look who’s talking.” Geras turned to Kassandra and impaled her chest with his hand to pull out the Earthrealm Kamidogu dagger, holding it up for Sinister to see. “Don’t think we haven’t been watching everything. As long as it flows through the passage of time, we know it, we understand it and we are prepared for it. Your ego must be gargantuan if you believed hiding the dagger in plain sight in this political climate was safe, let alone having her spy on the other Kings for so long. And what good did it do her before entering the throes of death? A little boost, something to augment her immature power so that she could be another tool for you to use.”

     Sinister’s muscles doubled in size and he rushed Geras with a shoulder charge, but he was promptly stopped by a right hook. An elbow crushing his nose, a spinning backhand to knock him off balance and a devastating dempsey roll to launch him skyward was all it took to bring the point home. Disbelief and anxiety overwhelmed Sinister’s body enough to return him to his natural size, struggling just to get to his knees after being pummeled. Through ragged breaths and gurgling coughs, Sinister protested. “You can’t kill me. You’ll….n...never seal me away.”

     “We’ll see about that,  _ Yaedah _ .” Geras snapped his fingers, creating a deafening sound and turning all but Sinister and Hotaru to dust, watching them blow away in the humid winds. His mouth opened opposite of Hotaru’s as he drew in a large breath, sucking out his essence in a trail of glimmering cyan energy. What remained was a stone statue of what used to be Commander Hotaru, now starting to crumble before them both. “I’ll leave you to wallow in your broken kingdom in your final days.”

     “What did you call me?! How dare you!” Sinister screamed at Geras but to no avail, instead being forced to watch him depart through a rift in time as he rummaged through the piles of dust that used to be his cult. Another scream bellowed out, one of a rage unbound. The Netherrealm trembled as time resumed.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Kung Jin and Takeda sat in chains among the ruins of King Goro’s lair, the rotting bones of the Shokan and Kano intermingling with the ever-present humidity. Mildew and blood covered the ancient bricks while scattered torches barely illuminated the dungeon, the only constant source of light being the fist-sized grate in the ceiling that let in sunlight, moonlight, rain and insects of all kinds. The distant skitter of roaches mixed with the gentle writhing of maggots got the better of Takeda and his opinion couldn’t help but be voiced. “What the hell were you thinking shooting at the magus with fucking arrows, Jin? Did you really think he was gonna sit there like the archery target back home? What the fuck are we gonna do now? Huh?! Waste away like that big fucker over there?! I fucking told you to shut up and stick to the plan! You always let your emotions get the best of you and fuck everything up! Goddammit!”

     Kung Jin listened to his frustrated tirade, in a meditative stance with legs crossed and hands brought close to his chest. “I wasn’t the one who blew our cover,  _ warrior of Emperor Onaga _ .”

     Takeda squinted at Jin and contorted his lips with staggered breaths, struggling to say something but succumbing to his frustration too long to come up with something coherent to say. So, he grunted, seethed and roared before slamming his back against the stone wall to lean on. Sitting on either end of the lair, they both tried to handle their captive state as best they could. “I read the fucking charter and had everything down to the fine print. Everything. That Four Kings present bullshit must have been something verbally agreed upon. I’m not fucking perfect, Jin. At least I got us in the door.”

     “I’m not blaming you, Takeda, unlike what you’re doing to me. I’m just saying don’t make me shoulder the whole situation.” Jin took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and meditate. “Shang said that we were going to be here until something was finalized, so in the meantime, let’s keep our wits about us and think of ways to get out of this predicament. Wouldn’t want our emotions to get the best of us, would we?”

     “Fine.” Though, as Takeda tried to close his eyes to think, a voice invaded his thoughts. It was strong and present, as if the person speaking was right next to him. He knew it couldn’t have been Jin. He had used his telekinetic power to trip him up at their home numerous times and this one felt different, almost too familiar for comfort. It was steady. Warm. 

     “Takeda, my son. Can you hear me?”

  
  


TO BE KONTINUED


	4. Immortals End

     In the midst of a peaceful dusk where birds retired to rest and trees fluttered blissfully under the carefree winds of the evening sky, a streak of red lightning flashed above Raiden’s Sky Temple. The owner had returned with a deafening fury that composed itself as he graced the temple rooftop, long gray hair bouncing along his muscular body during his slow walk inside. But before he could breach the threshold, he locked eyes with Fujin, who blocked his path. His booming voice addressed him like a friend but the wind god was suspicious. "Fujin. I hope you have fared well in these chaotic times."

     "I have fared better than you, Lord Raiden." Fujin's eyes quickly noticed Shinnok's Amulet resting in the center of Raiden's waistband. The calm winds picked up to provide a cooling breeze. "I thought you were imprisoned for disobeying the Elder Gods."

     "I was but I am atoning for my actions that were brought about by momentary confusion and frustration." Raiden continued his slow approach but every step was met with a cautionary rise in wind currents, forcing trees to dance and sway. "I was sent to gather energy from the Jinsei so that we can put an end to Sinister, once and for all."

     "I'm afraid I can not allow you into the Jinsei Chamber, Raiden. I can smell the ill-intent from here, so do not assume me a fool." Fujin called his bo staff to him through a gust of wind, gripping it tightly and slamming the end against the ground. 

     Red lightning crackled along Raiden's body as his face twisted in confusion. "Why are you opposing me, Fujin? Do you go against the will of the Elder Gods, like Shao Kahn? What ill-intent is there in stopping the demon that has long since plagued our lands?"

     A powerful gust of wind blew across them both, ruffling clothing and sweeping leaves from the terrace. "Evil can not purge evil. You know this. I am starting to believe that you are still a prisoner, shackled to your stubbornness."

     "It pains me to see that you are so adamant in resisting the Elder Gods, let alone defiling my temple with a murderer like Kabal." Raiden stepped closer, despite the high winds ripping off branches and whipping his hair about. "Don't do this, Fujin. You know that I am your better, even more so with the amulet."

     "I guarantee this will pain you more." A lash of wind whipped through the tile floor and shredded part of Raiden's pants. Though he teleported away in a flash of red light, blood ran diagonally from shoulder to thigh, revealing a shallow wound. Feeling the warm fluid bleed, he turned to Fujin and summoned his own staff through lightning, spinning it and entering a fierce pose that accentuated his new, muscular body.

     Fujin entered a more graceful pose with his staff extended toward the thunder God and his free hand tucked behind his back. Prefaced by a roar of thunder, their staffs clashed and tile floor shattered under their might. Every brutal union of their weapons echoed through the skies and ruptured clouds, adding to the tumultuous winds that accelerated into a full-blown storm. Though no rain fell, blood served as a worthy substitute as an illustration of their friendship meeting its sorrowful end. Soon enough, their staffs could no longer handle their combined might and shattered in their grasps.

     With wood splintering across jagged earth, they stared each other down before quickly switching to hand to hand combat. Fujin's palms sliced into Raiden's chest with blades of wind while Raiden bludgeoned Fujin with fists wrapped with electric wrath. All the while, Kabal watched from the hallway leading out to the rooftop, keeping his hook swords at the ready. But doubt plagued him in the form of indecisive steps forward followed by his momentary return to the chamber, unsure if he was ready to face such power. It was here that he witnessed what Fujin had always tried to tell him. It was here that he learned what kind of enemies he was training to go against.

     Raiden pushed Fujin away from him with a sphere of lightning, launching himself at him like a torpedo. "Wazahala ma lei!"

     Fujin caught himself and summoned a powerful whirlwind that spun Raiden about during his travel, making him crash into a lion statue. Before he could think about pulling the stone teeth from his bleeding body, Fujin increased the power of the whirlwind around Raiden and started drawing the very air from his lungs. "Rid yourself of this evil, Raiden! Or I shall rid you of your life!"

     With no breath to speak, Raiden blinded Fujin with a flash of red lightning from his eyes, drilling his stomach with hypersonic punches before knocking him off his feet with an uppercut. He caught his breath and glared at the wind god, summoning lightning to his hand while the other rubbed at his throat. "You can not win this fight, Fujin. Stand down before you suffer more than is needed!"

     With eyes clenched shut, red smoke sizzling from the edges, Fujin seethed at the thunder god. "Even now, I am not blind to your wickedness, Raiden. If I must die for  Earthrealm, then my life is a small price to pay to give them hope. To give them a future."

     "May the Elder Gods have mercy on your soul, dearest Fujin." A bolt of lightning split the skies and ripped across the rooftop from Raiden's hand, aimed to incinerate the blinded god. But instead of ash, Raiden could only see a flurry of Sparks, the electric attack lost in a faint blur. When the bolt subsided and thunder quelled, his eyes were set upon a sweating Kabal. To his amazement, he was fully awash with Aether.

     "Ain't never deflected lightning before but  _ goddamn _ if that wasn't a workout!" Kabal pointed one of his hook swords at Raiden, pushing Fujin behind him. "Listen here, Sparky, you've been evicted. Now get the fuck out of here whole or in pieces. It's up to you."

     "Hahahaha! If Fujin could barely hold his own against me, what hope does a mortal have? Even with you wielding the Aether, it is impure. You are not even the Aether Avatar, the prime and destined wielder." Raiden's body surged with lightning as he began to levitate off the ground, stray bolts ripping the roof off the temple and incinerating deeply-rooted trees. " _ I _ am the protector of Earthrealm and I will destroy you insurgents to keep it safe! Now die!"

     More red lightning streaked through the sky toward Kabal, immediately deflected by his speedy hook sword skills.But Raiden kept the pressure on, adding to the torrent of electricity while making his slow, lethal approach. "Fujin, get to the Jinsei! I'll hold him off!"

     "Kabal, no! You are not yet ready to---"

     "Like a broken fucking record, Fujin. I already told you. I ain't a hero. Raiden's right. I'm a killer." Kabal reflected Raiden's lightning back at him, knocking him to the ground and stopping the assault momentarily. 

     "And if you die, Kabal?!" Fujin made his way to the hallway entrance.

     "Then I die. Now go!" Kabal clashed his hook swords together, gesturing to Raiden. "You wanna see what a killer looks like? Come on."

     Raiden sent lashes of red lightning toward Kabal during his dash forward, ripping through what was left of the decorative surface of the roof. Kabal's superhuman speed was able to party the lightning but only barely, leaving him wide open once the thunder god closed the distance. He struck Kabal's wrists, forcing him to drop the hook swords and fight with his hands. "Without your blades, you are nothing, Kabal!"

     But, to his surprise, he was well-versed. So much so that Raiden's level of enthusiasm flashed from high to frustratingly low in seconds. They were matching each other's fists, parrying with extreme precision and landing blows that neither was expecting. When blood was drawn from Raiden's nose from a vicious right hook, he stepped back. “Huh. I’d bet that felt like a whole lotta  _ something _ , didn’t it?”

     “Your arrogance is sickening.” Raiden teleported behind Kabal, quickly wrapping his meaty arm around the fighter’s throat, choking him with his bulging bicep. Raising his free hand, multiple bolts of lightning conducted through his body to electrocute Kabal, causing tremors throughout the sky temple and frightening off any animals that may have been serving as an audience. The hellacious volume of Raiden’s scream of power and Kabal’s shriek of anguish mixed together to traumatize Fujin with shame. “I will return your visage to its rightful status and roast your flesh to the bone!”

     Kabal felt life slipping out of him as he smelled his flesh cooking from the constant barrage of lightning strikes Raiden was feeding into his body, his heart palpitations becoming so random he couldn’t keep track. Eyes twitched and flickered and his muscles spasmed while the asphyxiating effect of Raiden’s chokehold was ferrying him away into unconsciousness. Though Fujin felt compelled to interrupt, he could feel something coming from Kabal, something he had never felt before. He fully understood when he heard his student speak in a crackling, pathetic groan. “Then I died...for Earthrealm…”

     Raiden was knocked off of Kabal and crashed into one of the temple walls as cyan energy overflowed from Kabal’s body. His flesh instantly healed over with his body starting to levitate above the wreckage. Fujin’s breath was constantly being lost in his presence but his growing smile and rolling tears betrayed his discomfort. Aether merged with Kabal’s body, pooling from his eyes and his mouth, lapping off his limbs like a holy flame. His hook swords shot back to his hands while his face slowly turned around to look at Raiden with a righteous fury. The Avatar of Aether had risen. “You have abused your godhood and created an imbalance.”

     Raiden tried to stand to his feet but his legs shook with fear he had never felt before, struggling just to remain on his hands and knees. “What….HOW?!”

     Kabal appeared before Raiden in the middle of his sentence, every word delivering an immeasurable cleansing to the thunder god’s soul. While the flames did envelop his body, they did not burn him but rather the iniquity that had taken hold of him. Red and black smoke billowed in thick waves off Raiden’s body as the evil was being purged from him, as well as his godly power. “The imbalance has furthered your evil, Raiden. But you are not foul. In the name of Aether, the god of Quintessence, the essence of all above, the righteousness unbound, I banish this impurity back to the void!”

     Raiden’s body snapped up to a kneeling position with mouth agape, shivering painfully as a dense, inky blackness crawled from his body. Taking the shape of an oni with gravity-defying hair, it glared at Kabal while coming to stand on the red and black smoke that billowed out. Black drums were pulled from the smoke to surround it with hammers of black ore manifesting in its hands, eyes crackling with red lightning. With but a gesture of his hook sword, Raiden’s drained body rocketed from the rooftop, through the chamber hallway and slid to a halt near the Jinsei itself. It was there that Fujin’s arms curled underneath the shoulders of his friend, seeing him barely clinging to life upon his harsh transition into a mortal vessel.

     The thunder oni beat on its drums, filling the skies with unspeakable bass, waves of rupturing sound that would have torn Kabal apart if not for his link to the Aether. Kabal idly twirled his hook swords as the oni growled from the fruitless results of his drum beating but it was the warrior’s usual smarm that drove it into inexplicable rage. “That’s right, baby. Spin those wheels. Tantrums don’t cost a thing.”

     The last beat against his drums was followed by the oni swiping its massive hammers against Kabal, shocked to see that they were blocked by only one of his hook swords, his muscles barely tensing to keep the power of an ancient god at bay. With a mighty swipe, Kabal disarmed the oni and sliced through the dark flesh of his drums, finally drawing his blade up the middle and watching the thunder oni split in half. The creature dissipated into smoke and vanished from the power of the Aether, bringing the skies to a state of calm reflective on their growing shades of white and blue. The storm had finally ended.

     But so had Kabal’s brief step into the role of the Aether Avatar, for when the threat had ceased, the overwhelming power dissipated, bringing him back to his usual self. There were many things he contemplated, a variety of ideas and philosophical understandings he could have absorbed through his experience at the pinnacle of righteousness in the realms. But instead, he chose to elicit the summary of his experience as only he could while dashing toward the inner sanctum of the Jinsei Chamber. “Hey, Fujin, did you fucking see that shit?! I was glowing and purging gods and I split that fucker in two! Holy shit!”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     Erron Black was indulging in the luxury of sleep, his boots kicked up over a barrel of Outworld wine and leaning back in a chair in his personal quarters. Sleeping in bed was something he only did on occasion, believing that he could be called to action any moment or, even more maliciously, that anyone would have a better chance at getting the jump on him. His hat was tilted down over his eyes, giving him but a sliver of vision to the woman who suddenly appeared in his room. It only took a second for the hammer of his gun to click back before he spoke. "I reckon you're not here to give a cowboy some R&R, are ya, miss?"

     "I hardly believe someone like yourself could usher me into such a state." Cetrion pushed his hat up slightly with one of her vines, the slivers of sunlight that cut through his blinds outlining her earthly body. "I have come to speak with Emperor Onaga but he is not in his throne room. Where has he gone?"

     "Hostin' an execution. Usually, I'd handle it with a few of the boys but he told me that he wanted to see to it personally and that I should be ready in case anyone tries to come in unannounced." Erron locked eyes with the Elder God with the barrel of his gun aimed at her throat. "And you're lookin' pretty unannounced right now."

     "You are dangerously close to throwing away any sense of virtue, Erron Black." Cetrion's brows arched, not in anger but in a sad state of pity.

     "I lost my virtue when I shot my daddy." Erron's casual tone was evaporating. "Try again."

     A stone spire ruptured through the wine barrel but Erron was quick to push off the barrel and fire off a few rounds. When he got up from the ground, Cetrion was gone and he was on his feet, swinging his room door open with a revolver close to his hip. Halfway down the torchlit hall, the jingle of his spurs stopped as he laid eyes upon Geras just ten feet away. "State your business."

     "Killing you." Geras extended his hand to try and erase Erron Black but was interrupted when Kotal Kahn approached from behind. The serrated edge of his tecpatl blade sliced across Geras' chest, sinking into whatever he called a heart. While Geras quickly knocked him off, Kotal was adamant about keeping him from using his time manipulation, with his fists if necessary. 

     "Black! Get to Emperor Onaga! Warn him of these intruders to Outworld!" After receiving a brutal flurry of punches that rearranged his face, Kotal pinned Geras to the wall, ripping into his throat with teeth that flashed with the likeness of a jaguar. "Go! Now!"

     "Much obliged." Erron dashed past the two with spurs quickly jingling down the hallways. Moments later, Kotal could be heard screaming with slabs of flesh smacking against stone. Cracks and spurts of blood bid the gunslinger farewell as he tipped his hat forward, rushing out into the Outworld heat.

 

**_[Meanwhile]_ **

 

     A massive crowd cheered around the village square where Emperor Onaga towered over a captured criminal, the latter's wrists chained to the wooden stage. They were wrapped in black bandages and quite comfortable in the summer heat, despite their physical struggle against the chains. Their face was covered but the hissing and snapping that came from them encouraged the audience to keep their distance. For a while, the crowd expected a simple execution based upon theft, lying or even just destruction of property. But Kotal was not present with his macuahuitl and Erron Black's steely eyes weren't scanning over the crowd with a gun by his hip. It was only the might of Emperor Onaga with two of his guards standing by.

    "On this day, Outrealm has been invaded by a terrorist! A foul, slithering descendant of the Saurian race that has taken to spying on our relatively peaceful society. While you have been trading wares for koin and preparing for festivities, locusts have been among us! Here, at my feet, is one of them." Onaga pressed his taloned foot against the criminal's back, hearing it scream with crackling bones. "This chameleon hid in plain sight but no more shall their impudence escape my gaze. They shall be yet another example for any who wish to invade my realm!"

     More cheers belted out from the crowd, clapping and whistling feeding into his ego while flames gurgled in his throat. The Mark of Theta flashed from a sliver of flesh revealed from beneath Khameleon's black bandages, infusing her with more energy to struggle. But Onaga's heel only dug deeper into her spine, pinning her against the wooden planks. "Lord...s...Ssssssinister will...eat….y...you."

     "Cowards who send the trash of my kin to try and undermine me could never even dream of overcoming my might." Onaga's mouth opened wide with his wings outstretched, a stream of flame pouring down to incinerate Khameleon. Her screams fueled the crowd's excitement, even the children rejoicing in her slow death at the hands of the emperor. No matter how much she wanted to regenerate, his fire saturated her wounds and engulfed her bones. What remained of her drooled like sludge between the wooden slits, green ash blowing into the wind. It was accelerated by the sudden rainfall that came after, evolving from a light trickle into a ferocious downpour in seconds.

     The crowd scattered from the weather to swarm indoors and, before Onaga could do the same, he was stopped on stage by Cetrion descending from the skies. She walked across the wet planks with a a cutting glance and uneasy smile. "Are you proud of what you have, Onaga?"

     "You have no place here, Elder God. I have done nothing to offend your kind. This execution was strictly in the right of Outrealm customs. The invasion of a King's forces into another's territory, however…" Onaga stepped to her, taking stock of both pride and power to galvanize the shadow of his imposing stature over her. "That is a direct violation of the Kingdom Accords. Punishable by death of the offender, if I remember reading over them correctly."

     "There are many things which have gone awry, many things that should not have happened. I am sorry to say that I watched them unfold and did nothing until it was too late. But the time has come to rectify the realms and you have an important part in it " Cetrion used her power to grow slightly larger than Onaga, looking down at him with that same, unnerving smile. 

     "I do not have time for the errands of the Elder Gods. I must do what is right by my realm." Onaga stood tall, even beneath Cetrion's gaze. His wings were spread with pride and his chest widened with a lifted chin. "I put my realm in order but I do not subjugate everyone to my rule like Shang Tsung or border on psychopathy like Hotaru. And with Sinister creating his own cult of debauchery and hubris, I am the only King that has earned the title. I brought peace and unity before my death, I have brought it through my resurrection. Let me tend to my people and leave this place."

     "You are an honorable being, Onaga. I wish I could but I can not." Cetrion impaled Onaga through his chest to grip his massive heart, feeling the contractions quicken and alternate. "Mother requires your refined essence to right the wrongs of the realm. Trust me, this is best for you and your people."

     A vial of acid rocketed toward Cetrion's face, which quickly turned to panic and confusion. All was made clear by rapid fire shots from Erron's revolver, both shattering the vial in her face and sending bullets flying through her flesh. She screamed in pain, releasing Onaga and stumbling backwards trying to fix her blinded visage. Though the pouring rain helped, her skin sizzled from the Saurian acid. "Thought you done got away from me, didn't ya?"

     Onaga fell to a knee and clutched his chest. Black blood poured from the wound as he tried to use the Nether to repair it, finding it difficult with a glowing substance around the wound slowing it down substantially, nearly negating it. "A...ae...ther….damn it…."

     Guards rushed to the side of their king as Erron aggressively waved for them to get him away from the village square, even aiming one of his revolvers at them for not moving fast enough. But as soon as his attention drew back to Cetrion, he was backhanded off the stage and across the ground. Cetrion's face was marred, using different species of Flora and soft types of earth to help regenerate. "You do not know what you impede, Erron Black! Do you not see that I am doing this to stop the demon?! To return you to the life you were supposed to have?! You will lose! You will die on this hill of lunacy! Why do you rush into certain death for Onaga?! For this wasteland?!"

     "A job's a job, lady." Erron rose to his feet and unsheathed his Tarkatan sword, watching Cetrion float toward him with bated breath. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

      Fujin sat beside a weary Raiden as the former god of thunder held his head, eyes no longer ignited with power but dulled in shame. "There is no more time left, Fujin. No matter if it comes from Kronika or Sinister or some rogue, Armageddon is coming soon."

     "But if Kronika doesn't get a big boost from the Jinsei, that means she's fucked. Right? If she needs all this shit, she can't afford to skip a beat." Kabal was sat across from Fujin and Raiden, leaning forward with fingers interlocked. 

     "That also means that Sinister is a much bigger threat than we realized. Where is Kronika? Where is she amassing this power? Why are the other Elder Gods not intervening?" Fujin's eyes never left Raiden, still bubbling with mixed emotions on his mentor.

     "Kronika is within her keep in the far reaches of the Netherrealm, beyond the Sea of Blood. She utilizes a temporal veil to keep people from finding it. As for the Elder Gods…" Raiden's gaze fell. "They went against Kronika's plan and were erased. Only Cetrion, Kronika's daughter, remains."

     Fujin's expression changed to complete shock. "Why in the world would Kronika murder the other Elder Gods?"

     "Because she's lyin'. That's why." Kabal spit off to the side, shaking his head. "Too many things about what you told us don't make sense and, since I pretty much ripped the god right outta ya, I'm gonna take it you're just telling us what you know. No way she would resort to killing some of the top dogs unless her plan was bad news from the start. You said she was trying to gather an assload of power, right? All the Kamidogu, Jinsei energy, everything and the kitchen sink, right?"

     "Yes, that is what she told us." Raiden looked powerless for the first time in his life, peering up at Kabal as if presenting himself to a superior.

     "Okay. So, why in the world wouldn't she use the power to just destroy Sinister? Why capture him like a science project? Even more, what did you think was gonna happen if her plan actually worked? Do you honestly think someone with that much power is just gonna give it all up and go back to being background noise?" Kabal leaned in close to Raiden, quirking a brow. "I don't fucking think so. I know what happens when people get a taste of power. They become a glutton."

     Raiden looked down to Shinnok's Amulet still attached to his belt, seeing faint gleams of power in the center jewel. "But she would be no better than Sinister. With that kind of power, she could unravel everything."

     "Titan chick that controls time with nearly unlimited power? Yeah. Not really a great outcome." Kabal scoffed, leaning back against the stone wall.

     "But we can't discount that Sinister needs to be defeated  _ somehow _ and placing such a burden on your shoulders seems cruel at this juncture, especially with what we now know." Fujin's eyes sank as well, holding his hands together and mentally praying to whoever could hear him.

     "Um, 'scuse me, and no offense to Raiden but did you see me out there?! Aether Avatar achieved. Savior of the realms chosen to officially knock that grape-smelling bastard Sinister out of the park." Kabal flexed briefly with a chuckle, spinning one of his hook swords.

     "It was an impressive display, I don't deny that. But we don't even know what caused it to occur or if we can even duplicate it." Fujin sighed. "This is truly a troubling situation. Kronika and Sinister are going to tear the realms apart."

     "Fujin, do not lose hope." Raiden lifted Fujin's chin to look him in the eye, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I participated in great error in my position as a god, trying to justify the means to an end. And here I am before you, the lowest I have ever been. But I saw your vigilance in the midst of combat, the years of patience and emotional maturity you displayed among the chaos. I have seen how you took one of the more unsavory kombatants in the realms, a mortal, and raised him by nourishing his spirit. Now, he is worthy of one of the most powerful forces in existence. Whether or not the Elder Gods have been compromised, they entrusted you as the guardian of Earthrealm and you fulfilled that duty."

     Fujin locked eyes with Raiden, lips pursing as emotion overwhelmed his face. He did all he could to remain stoic, to rest in the shadow of dignity that Raiden cast over him. "I appreciate that….Lord Raiden. But what about Shang Tsung and---"

     "No one could have predicted things would have turned out as they had. Earthrealm always has its share of conflict. What matters is that you protected the Jinsei with your life. You kept the energy out of foul hands. Even mine." Raiden pulled his hair back into a ponytail to match Fujin's, appearing somewhat recovered due to the chamber's healing properties. "But we have talked enough. We need to act. As we speak, Kronika grows stronger and is no doubt wondering where I am with the Jinsei energy."

     "Well, what do we do? Can we kill her before she gets what she needs to fuck everyone over?" Kabal readied his hook swords, spinning them impatiently.

      "I have told you all I know. Lord Fujin, what course of action should we take? As the only god in the room, your wisdom would be most fortuitous." Raiden smiled to his old friend, receiving one in return.

     "Indeed. Both Kronika and Sinister present the greatest threat but their power can be brought to a manageable level if we can isolate them from their followers." Fujin stood to his feet, levitating inches off the ground as he directed Raiden and Kabal's attention to the Jinsei stream, images of his plan appearing within. "Sinister's cult needs to be completely dismantled. From what we've seen, he can resurrect himself from the body of any living follower he corrupts. If we can separate him from any susceptible individuals, he should be easier to take on. As for Kronika, Cetrion and Geras are her muscle. From what Raiden has told us, she needs a considerable amount of time and concentration to prepare the hourglass for her plan. If we can eliminate them, it will be easier to stop her.”

     “Alright, we know the who. What about the how?” Kabal swiped his hook swords through the air with a cackle. “I’d love to chop ‘em to bits but I’m guessing you’re gonna rebut me for the millionth time?”

     “Violence alone will not eliminate this threat, Kabal. Geras is an immortal who can not be killed and Cetrion's power is far above any of us." Raiden rubbed his chin with a look of contemplation. "However, if we can separate the person from the power, we might stand a chance. But, as you said, Kabal’s newfound abilities are not yet certain.”

     “Then, I suppose there is only one other alternative.” Fujin walked from the Jinsei stream to one of the large stone heads which jutted from the wall. The lines of cyan Jinsei energy that flowed through it stopped upon his approach, his eyes closing while he kneeled down before it. As the stone head’s mouth opened, the hilt of a large sword was revealed from its luminescent innards. Gripping the hilt, Fujin was overwhelmed by a flurry of energy, gesturing for Raiden and Kabal to stay back. After a few moments of struggling to pull the sword from the stone, it was finally released into his grasp and the granite lips slammed shut. Staggering to his feet, he showed off the two-handed blade with its black and gold symbols adorning the wide center. “This is the Devastator.”

     Kabal looked it over with a shrug. “Some fancy ancient sword? I mean, it’s pretty big but I doubt it’s gonna do much unless it can stop the end of the world.”

     “That’s precisely why it was created, by the Elder Gods themselves no less.” Becoming more comfortable with the weapon, Fujin started to spin it about, wielding it as easily as a dagger. “This weapon was to be used as a failsafe against the Forces of Darkness if they were to start up Armageddon. It acts as an absolute ward, dispelling any dark or negative energies from all that come against it. But the energies are drawn through the sword and into the wielder. Because of that, the user has to not only be of impeccable moral strength but mental fortitude.”

     “It’s suicide, isn’t it, Lord Fujin?” Raiden stared at him pensively.

     “Hand the sword to me, Fujin. I can handle it.” Without waiting, Kabal approached Fujin only to get knocked away by a huge gust of wind, skidding across the chamber floor.

     “I will be the one to carry this burden.” Raiden tried to rise from the ground to oppose him but quickly paused and sat back down upon seeing Fujin’s eyes glow a bright white. “No one else. With your potential, Kabal, you are Earthrealm’s last chance should I fail. Raiden will help guide you while I travel to the Netherrealm. If Kronika’s Keep is beyond the Sea of Blood, I can ascend high enough to find the general area and sense out her temporal energy.”

     “Fujin, why the hell are you trying to go this alone?! Am I supposed to just stay here and babysit Raiden until they try to storm this place?” Kabal rose to his feet, frustrated.

     “No, Kabal. I don’t want you going against Kronika and her forces. Unlike your bout with Raiden, they will erase you from existence without a second thought. But you  _ will _ need to tend to an important event that will occur very soon, something my student Kai was to warn me of.” Fujin pulled the hairband from his white tresses, letting his ponytail unfurl into long, silver locks while he approached the Jinsei Stream. “You will need to travel to Edenia.”

     “ _ That _ thing? But those two guys have gotta be dead by now!” Kabal grit his teeth, frustrated at Fujin’s orders.

     “Blaze is still alive. I can sense him and, if he is on his way to the place prophesied by Sorceress Delia, then her plan is still in motion.” Fujin started to step into the Jinse Stream but turned back to see Kabal holding a hooksword to his throat.

      “There’s something you’re not telling me, Fujin. Why all these backup plans and failsafes? Why multiple Armageddons?! What the fuck am I supposed to do in Edenia?!” Kabal was gently pulled back by Raiden, allowing Fujin to dissipate into the Jinsei stream, traversing outward into the skies above the temple. “Raiden, wha---”

     “I don’t like it either, Kabal. Everything is decaying into madness and trust is a highly valued commodity nowadays. But I could sense the sincerity in his tone. He does what he does to protect you and Earthrealm. Go to Edenia. I will stay here and guard the Jinsei.” Raiden sat in front of the Jinsei Stream, legs folded and hands interlocked.

     “But you’re not even a god anymore. If they come in here, especially knowing that you failed and switched sides, they’ll kill you.” Kabal sheathed his hook swords along his back.

     “Remember, Kabal. Power is not everything.” They were Raiden’s last words before he entered a state of meditation much like Fujin. With his orders given and Raiden becoming silent, Kabal muttered some unsavory words that arose from anger before his feet rushed from the chamber.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

     “I never thought I would find you in a place like this.” Entering the control room of what used to be the Red Dragon stronghold was a young, muscular man. Wearing a sleeveless black and gold outfit with ornate designs, he scratched his goatee while stepping into the dimmed lighting. The relatively bright radius encircled a plethora of monitors, control panels and shackles covered in blood. Hunched over one of the monitors was Daegon. His voice was deeper and unusually scratchy.

     “And where did you expect to find me, Taven? Running behind you in father’s temple? Working side by side like family is supposed to? Are you still having fun being complacent in ignorance?” Daegon didn’t turn to look at him, pressing some buttons to switch between cameras.

     “Daegon, we need to return to Edenia. The realms are in utter chaos. The obelisks revealed some truths, something about a pyramid and me being a key to saving the realms. If we go see mother and father, they can ---” Taven flinched at the sound of Dageon slamming his hand against the console.

     “They’re dead, you idiot. I killed them when I learned the truth. Then I formed the Red Dragon to hunt you down and take the prize for myself, to fulfill the destiny they foretold. But it’s pointless now. It’s all pointless now.” Daegon went back to changing between cameras, losing his sense of self with every word spoken.

     “You...you killed mother and father?! Brother, what madness has overtaken you?!” Taven stepped forward with clenched fists but was compelled to keep his distance at the appearance of his brother lashing a crimson, reptilian tail at him. “What the…”

     “You’re not listening to me, Taven. Our parents, their prophecy, Caro, Orin --- it’s all pointless. Too much has changed and the balance of power lies within those even stronger than us. Our very existence was predestined and then nullified by parasites. My destiny...my future….gone.” Daegon’s voice became almost pitiful in tone, carrying a sense of melancholy that changed Taven’s disposition from angry to worried.

     “Brother, I don’t know what darkness overtook you in my absence but if you’ll let me help, we can fix it.” Taven reached out to touch Daegon’s shoulder when that swaying tail loosely curled around his brother’s waist. But Daegon’s clawed hand snapped out to grip at his throat, his flesh patchy with red scales and eyes burning with the fury of a dragon.

     “ _ I _ CAN FIX IT!” Daegon lifted Taven off the ground with ease, displaying strength that even his brother was struggling to overcome with all his might. In seconds, Taven was struggling to breathe in his vice-like grip, resorting to kicking at Daegon’s chest after feeling his claws sink into his neck. “I may not have the Kamidogu, I may not ever fulfill my destiny and I may not be able to return to the greatness of Edenia as the god I  _ should _ be, but I can kill you! I can kill you and make sure you never have the chance that was snatched from me! You don’t  _ deserve _ that kind of hope!”

     “B...brother!” Taven tried to reason with Daegon while taking in the chimeric features of his body, eventually thrusting his heels against his throat with enough force to encourage his release. He rolled away, covering the shallow incisions on his throat while blood leaked down his fingers. “Your...your skin….nggh...your...eyes!”

     “Do you like it, brother? Caro was an unwilling participant in my Red Dragon program but, I have to say, it was much better than listening to him whine in chains all day and night.” Daegon’s sadistic grin revealed the rows of razor sharp teeth and intermittent plumes of flame that puffed between the cracks. Unsheathing his drakeswords, his tail lashed to shatter part of the ground, staring him down like a piece of meat.  “You fought all this time for nothing. Came all this way just to die at the hands of your own flesh and blood. Any final words?”

     Unsure of the power his brother wielded, Taven turned to the advice of his father via one of the obelisk training sessions. His eyes darted to see the cavern itself had been in a grievous state of disrepair for years without any workers or engineers to keep everything optimal. The cracks along the walls and the crumbling stalagmites inspired an idea. Jumping off the ground, Taven brought his arm back with a surge of godly energy rushing through his muscles. Instead of trying to pummel his brother, he punched the ground and induced a massive quake. “Goodbye.”

     “What?!” Daegon struggled to maintain his balance with the initial quake setting off a chain reaction that resulted in the beginnings of a cave-in. The ground cracked and crumbled beneath him while Taven took off in a daring escape from the inner sanctum of the mountain. But Daegon rushed after him with blades still drawn, screaming for him to return while boulders and stalagmites started to fall around them. “No! I will not have this snatched from me! Not this! Return to face your death at my hand!”

     Taven darted through passageways, smashing his way through any that had become obstructed to escape the bestial screams of his lunatic sibling. After rounding the corner of a collapsing pathway, Taven felt the bloody orange light of a dawning sun beam against his face. But halfway down the path, he felt his brother’s drakesword pierce his shoulder and a furious screech filled his ear. He struggled to get up but the second drakesword came down to impale his back and sink into the ground. Gurgling blood, he reached out for the warmth of the sun while rocks progressively started to pile up in front of his only escape.

     “And here is where we die, Taven. Here is where our story ends! Countless attempts to be something when we are nothing. Nothing! Toys of the gods and forces we can not control. This is our destiny. This is our end! Crushed under the wheel of fate!” Daegon leaned in with his flames lapping at the back of Taven’s neck. Facing imminent death, Taven’s outstretched hand swung around to grab his brother’s dragon tail, quickly impaling Daegon’s good eye with the barbed end. Daegon released his swords and started to stumble around, breathing fire and screaming his brother’s name while the boulders continued to fall. Taven pulled the swords from his body and stumbled toward the entrance while Daegon’s shouts were suddenly silenced.

     A powerful shoulder rush through the small mound of debris secured Taven’s exit at the last minute, crawling along the ground while the decimated cavern exhaled plumes of smoke and dust. As Taven lay bleeding, the rubble at the entrance of the cavern started to move and his blurred vision laid eyes upon an injured Daegon trying to claw his way out. He struggled to move away from Daegon as the latter opened his mouth to unleash a torrent of flame, only to have his head impaled by a rising shard of rock. While Daegon’s jaw hung precariously off of the summoned stalagmite, a large figure stood over Taven to block out the sun. Though the demigod didn’t know who they were, the heavy boot pressed against his neck and terrifying voice was enough to know he wasn’t out of the woods just yet. “W..nggh...who are….”

     “I am Tremor and  _ you _ are the last of the Red Dragon scum.” 

  
  


TO BE KONTINUED


	5. Test Your Sight

     "Why did you die?!"

     "Please, don't---"

     "Don't fucking DON'T me! You knew I was alive somewhere and abandoned me!"

     "I wanted to---"

     "SHUT UP, YOU FUCKING LIAR!"

     Though Kenshi had hoped for a more amicable conversation with his son, he found that Takeda's mind was almost more vitriolic than his tongue in their meeting of the minds. Meanwhile, amidst the rattling chains and shifting expressions of his partner, Kung Jin was thinking of interrupting whatever odd struggle he believed he was having with himself. But he chalked it up to his usual anger, closing his eyes again.

     "Takeda, we don't have time to argue about this right now. I'm barely able to hold on and speak to you where I am." Desperation and anxiety lingered in Kenshi's voice.

     "Why the hell should I be listening to you? You're dead. You can't help me. We're locked in the musty, dark pit under Shang Tsung's island with a few skeletons." Takeda pulled against the enchanted shackles, feeling an opposite tug come whenever he resisted his bondage. "We're fucked."

     "Takeda, be quiet and listen to me!" The authority of Kenshi's voice rang through Takeda's head and both of them mired in silence for a few minutes. A tear tried to run down Takeda's cheek but it was quickly wiped away with an angry sniffle. "I'm sorr-"

     "N-it's whatever. Just say what you need to say and fuck off out my head."

     "I know you've been fighting against the evils of this world but Shang Tsung is paltry compared to the real darkness. He calls himself Sinister Maharana and he is about to do something reprehensible."

     Takeda straightened himself up against the stone wall, scoffing. "That idiot trapped in the Netherrealm? He can't break the accords. Besides, Hotaru---"

     "Is dead. The accords have already been broken. Through this ...amalgamated hell, I have seen glimpses of what has occurred through him. It has taken every ounce of my willpower to focus beyond the constant screams and wailing, even more to speak to you." There was a sound of Kenshi catching himself before crying. A clearing of his throat. "Takeda, listen to me. You need to go to the Temple of Pekara and find the sword of your ancestors, Sento, in its ruins. It is the only thing that can protect you from the wrath he is about to incur. You will find the island in the Far East, beyond a dense mist."

     "Temple of Pekara? Sento? How is a sword gonna protect me against a Realm King? How am I gonna get out of here?" Takeda was trying to interrogate his father but the sudden choking sound that rang through his head and the wavering voice of Kenshi made him pause. "...where are you?"

     "Takeda, my time runs short. Please, listen to me. No matter how you feel about me, you must fight against Sinister. Resist his influence. He will come against you like a rising tide to swallow you whole. Do not believe his lies. Do not give in." There was a strong choking sound mixed with tears as he strained in his final moments with Takeda.

     "...dad?" Another tear escaped his eye but, this time, he let it fall.

     "I….I love ynnngAAAAAAAGHHHHH!" Kenshi's final words were marred by inexplicable pain, leaving his son in a brief state of panic.

     Takeda blinked rapidly while more tears crawled down his cheeks, soon closing his eyes to mentally search for light of another conscience. But, to his dismay, the only thoughts he could find were his own. He tried to muffle his quiet sobs, furiously wiping his face and clearing his throat. But when he looked up from wet hands, Kung Jin was staring at him. "Yeah?! What?"

     "I'm sorry, Takeda." Kung Jin's fingers interlocked, resting on his lap as he took a deep breath. "I know this journey has been hard on both of us. Fighting against the Centaurians, resisting the Kings and the whole getting thrown in jail thing. I didn't mean to make things worse for you."

     "Huh? Oh, Jin I--no this isn't…" Takeda finished wiping his face with a few chunky snorts of a runny nose. "Look. I shouldn't have blown up at you. I'm sorry I snapped. We both kinda mucked up."

     "Good. Now, you've calmed." Kung Jin started to smile and give a slight nod before his eyes briefly glowed a rich shade of blue. With a short, but powerful, exhale, his palms pushed toward the ground. The duo’s enchanted chains shattered with a rich static, steel fragments scattering across the chamber. He rose to his feet, panting a bit. "I was worried I wouldn't be able to tap into my chi with your screaming."

     "Never knew the Shaolin taught you magic tricks like that." Takeda rose to his feet, quickly checking the area. "Now, do we wanna try round two with mister wizard, probably get our asses handed to us and end up worse for wear or get the hell outta here?"

     "Well, where are we going to go? It's not like the Centaurians are gonna forget what we did to Motaro." Kung Jin crept through the lair, trying to find an exit amongst the corpses.

     "We're going to the Temple of Pekara. I…." Takeda paused, stopping in his tracks to think for a moment. His gaze drew downward before he shook his head and continued behind Kung Jin. "I think we can survive this. All of this. The temple of my ancestors has something we can use to fight off Sinister."

     "Yeah? Where exactly is this temple?" Before Takeda could answer, a deafening explosion could be heard from above the lair. Dust and debris was shaken from the already crumbling ceiling, nearly sending the two to their knees. Looking to each other, they discarded subtlety and made a run to the dungeon hatch above Goro's throne.

**_[Meanwhile]_ **

 

     "That is not what we agreed upon! How could she do this to me?! Is this a game to you?!" Shang Tsung was infuriated, to say the least. Stepping around the piles of sand that used to be his fervently obedient bodyguards, his hands glowed with the power of accumulated souls. A massive hole in the palace wall smoldered with supernatural smoke, billowing past the oddly calm Geras.

     "It is the will of Kronika. She knew that such power would be required if there were ever to be a situation of this magnitude that needed to be rectified. You should be grateful that she gave you such power in the first place, Shang Tsung." Geras stepped forward as his body illuminated with energy. "Now, hand over your essence or I shall come retrieve it."

     "Grateful?! Do you know who you dare to command?! I will end you!" The palace started to shake as the silken robes that graced Shang Tsung's body unfurled, revealing the pencil-thick veins of Aether and Nether flowing through him. "I have mastered the forbidden wielding of both elements. Kronika is  _ nothing _ compared to me and you  _ dare _ stand in the presence of a King, demanding  _ my soul _ ?!"

     "I would not think you to be the type to rush into suicide on but our second meeting. Do you fear the weight of your sacrifice so greatly, sorcerer?" Geras crossed his arms over his chest, disengaged from the tension Shang Tsung was emitting.

     "I am no fool, slave of Kronika. I know the danger of dual-wielding these elements. It is precisely  _ why _ I do so now. So that you can witness your failure firsthand." Shang Tsung started releasing flames of Aether and Nether to devour the rest of the wall, the two elements creating earth-rending explosions whenever they met.

     Geras barely dodged the conflagration but was more concerned about what Shang Tsung had just said. As if a switch had been turned on, he immediately shifted to a more violent approach, hurling dense blocks of stone at the magus. "You would tear yourself asunder over pride? You are a fool!"

     Although only seconds had passed since Shang Tsung started to wield both elements, he was already starting to cough up blood, clenching his teeth every so often from the pain that rattled his innards. Even still, he persisted, keeping Geras and his sand constructs at bay with flames of life and death. "Anyone else...hngg!....would have died immediately. Completely destroyed by the might of these elements. Forcing together two ends that...naturally oppose. An unholy symmetry."

     "This will not stop me, Tsung. You forget that I am beyond life and death." Geras teleported through a rush of sand, whirling around Shang Tsung after obstructing his view with a constructed wall. Upon reappearing, his heavy palms smashed against either side of the sorcerer's skull from behind, fingers digging into his scalp. "You, however, are not. You never were. You have gorged enough on Kronika’s grace."

     There were two cracks of Shang's skull from the overwhelming pressure before Geras slowly turned to see Takeda reading his mind. Before Geras could react, arrows ripped through his head and forced him to release the sorcerer. He stumbled back, ripping one out to see the mystic chi flowing through the arrow before falling to the ground. Takeda stepped from the shadows with a stern voice. "You killed him. You and that bald cunt."

     Shang Tsung, dazed, tried to crawl away. But his wrists were pinned to the tile floor by Kung Jin's enchanted arrows. He rushed to press his foot against his head, aggravating the freshly cracked skull to keep him docile. The Aether and Nether flux in his body started to fade. "He's not going anywhere, Takeda. I'll hold him."

     "Ah yes. The Shaolin reject and the angry orphan. It is unfortunate that your paths have led you here.” Sand poured from Geras’ wounds as he regenerated, walking quickly to Takeda and smashing his face with a brutal backhand. “You have chosen death.”

     “Takeda!” Kung Jin was already aiming another arrow at Geras but Takeda gestured for him to stop.

     “No! No..nghh..I got this, Jin.” Takeda spat out blood and stood firm, lashing his razor whips from his exosuit to strike the ground and kick up sparks. “If Shang Tsung had never been cursed, if Kronika had never set things in motion, my father might still be alive.”

     Geras laughed. “Do you believe a few seconds trying to navigate my mind will give you the insight to understand the gravity of this sit--”

     The sharpened edge of one of Takeda’s whips tore off one of Geras’ cheeks, leaving his jaw to hang from his face. It threatened to fall from the few strings of flesh and sinew that held it together. Takeda was already whipping another to dig into his chest, harshly retracting the mechanical whip to grind through his sternum. “I know enough.”

     Both whips lashed out at Geras but were caught in his powerful grip, yanking him forward to slam his foot in his chest. Even Kung Jin could hear Takeda’s ribs crack as he was launched across the palace floor, skidding until his back thudded against one of the thick stone pillars. With a bruised back, Takeda looked on through blurred vision to see Kung Jin firing a barrage of arrows at the time golem. Unfortunately, this time, Geras was not fazed.

     "Jin...J-Jin!" Takeda struggled to make it to his feet as waves of pain bloomed from the delayed effect of Geras' strike, nearly knocking him off his feet again. Jin tried to hold his own against Geras, firing bursts of flame from the dragon head of his bow when arrows ran low, soon even clashing against him with his chakram. But his efforts were nullified by Geras' overwhelming strength. Soon, Takeda could only witness as Geras choked Jin, lifting him off his feet with ease.

     "You are not worth the effort" Geras's free hand was aimed at Jin's feet and slowly elevated with a blue glow. Jin's body started to disintegrate into sand, blowing away in the wind with an accompanying scream of pitiful agony. Blood vessels were crushed, flesh was stripped and bone was shattered before being whisked away. "You have no place in The New Era."

     This was the first time that Takeda had heard Jin express such pain. The first time he screamed so loud at suffering and injustice. The first time his body was flooded with this strange energy, an energy that produced an odd frequency. Geras stopped and was shocked to find that his nose was bleeding, red fluid soon gushing from his nostrils in excess. Then, a pop, a thunderous boom of brain and skull that scattered across the throne room. 

     Kung Jin landed hard on his back as the sands started to reverse, returning his legs and sanity. He looked over to Takeda, who still couldn't believe what he had accomplished. "Takeda, what the hell?"

     "I think…" Takeda finally managed to stand up, staggering over to Kung Jin with a hand pressed against his head. "There's more to this gift than just  _ reading _ minds."

     "Hah...y-yes. An impressive display." Shang Tsung had used the brief conflict as a distraction, ripping the arrows from his wrists and crawling away from the two warriors. His sickening cackle filled the room in-between his taunts. "I'm sure...your father would be proud. If only he could...nghh...see you now. Hahahahahaha!"

     "You evil fuck!" Takeda wasted no time lashing his deadly whips at the magus, letting the adrenaline of his rage fuel him back to a competent state. But Shang Tsung had already opened a portal and was scooting himself into the void. Unfortunately, he was caught off guard by a muscular black arm cinching around his throat and violently yanking him through. Takeda's whips shattered tile as the portal closed, leaving Shang Tsung's scream to echo in the now empty palace.

     "Damn. I'm sorry, Takeda. Next time, we'll get him." Kung Jin still appeared somewhat shaken, walking in place and stretching his toes in his boots to ensure he got everything back from that horrifying erasure. 

     "You can count on that. So sick of that bearded fuck weasling his way out of the ass beating he deserves." Takeda retracted his whips into his exosuit, sighing while looking over to Geras' corpse. "We gotta get out of here before we run into any more surprises. Let's book it to the Temple of Pekara."

     "Where is that, exactly?" Kung Jin started hearing grains of sand swirl along the ground and got a running start out of the temple with Takeda.

     "Far enough away from here." Takeda leaped off the dock and into one of the temple boats. Using one of his whips as an impromptu propeller, the two sped off from the island. Through his periphery, Jin gets chills as he sees a glimpse of Geras' watching their departure from the docks.

 

\-------------------------------

 

     "Wait! I am not with the Red Dragon. You misunderstand!" Taven tried to shout beyond Tremor's boot pressed against his neck. "He was my brother!"

     "Who also happens to have the same dragon tattoo as the Red Dragon leader? Any more excuses while I crush your windpipe?" Tremor forced up blood from Taven's throat from the pressure, his screams soon drowning in pain.

     "If you do not release him, you will die." A deep, layered voice came from just behind Tremor, making him turn around.

      "Is that a threat?" Tremor raised his foot off Taven's throat to hear him choking and struggling for air.

     "No. It is a prophecy." Before Taven and Tremor, Blaze stood with embers lapping at his limbs and a stoic expression carved into his face. Chains were wrapped around his ankles and wrists, binding stone guards with odd insignias to his body. "This is not what was supposed to happen. The future is becoming too chaotic and Armageddon must take place before it is too late."

     "What do you speak of? Are you more Red Dragon?!" Taven readied himself for an all-out fight, eyes glowing a deep orange. But Blaze held his hands up and shook his head dismissively.

     "My name is Blaze. I was created by Sorceress Delia for an event that is quickly reaching its climax. Long ago, she foresaw that the growing powers of different kombatants would lead to the destruction of the realms, tearing reality asunder." Blaze turned to face Taven. "You and your brother were meant to kombat me in order to stop this from happening. However, the prophecy has been corrupted and dangerously accelerated by the invasion of Sinister Maharana."

     "Is this what brother meant by Armageddon? I don't---I don't understand." Taven sat up on his elbows, still in an uneasy daze from the sudden rush of events.

     "And what does this all mean, exactly? Why should I believe you?" Tremor cracked his knuckles and stepped closer to Blaze, now towering over him.

     "Because if Taven does not defeat me by the end of the day, then you will no longer exist." Blaze stared Tremor down, extending an arm out to open a flaming portal. "We must go to the Edenian Southlands. The Pyramid of Argus has already arisen and, no doubt, kombatants are already starting to feel the pull."

     Tremor looked between Blaze and Taven before settling his eyes back on the fire elemental. There was a disgusted grunt before he walked through the portal, leading Blaze to gesture for Taven to follow suit. Confused but determined, Taven walked through the portal, leaving Blaze to turn and stare at Daegon's body. Silence that filled the unnatural amount of time Blaze spent looking at the fallen brother and, soon, a shadow fell over his corpse. When Blaze walked through the portal, he sported the briefest of smiles and departed the now empty mountainside.

 

**_[Meanwhile]_ **

     Edenia was a lush, glorious realm, where flora and fauna intermingled symmetrically among the royal cityscapes. People indulged in peaceful ceremonies, whether beneath the basking warmth of the sun or the mysterious chill of the moon. Children played, merchants were in a constant state of trade and the royal family ruled with a fair hand. This was not the Edenia that Kabal raced into. This was a skeleton of what was.

     Buildings were either abandoned or torn down from scavengers, rivers were clogged with bones and blood & the skies were a constant rusty shade. It almost made Kabal miss his mask. With hook swords in tow, he walked across the kingdom ruins with an introspective eye. “The hell happened to this place?””

     “Us.” The deep, sudden voice made Kabal turn around to witness the domineering stature of Motaro, standing among a band of Centaurians. With their invisibility cloaks fading to reveal their snorting faces and scraping hooves, Kabal soon found himself outnumbered seven to one. Motaro’s metallic tail swayed gently as he spoke, idly cracking his knuckles as he slowly approached the long-haired kombatant. Stretching one eye to his waist was a deep scar with a serrated, whip-like pattern, leaving him partially blind.  “Surprised to see you around here, Kabal. I thought the Red Dragon killed you long ago. But your face, ugh. It looked better peeling off your bones.”

     “Ya know, I wasn’t feelin’ it either at first. But I gotta say, it’s damn good to eat without a tube again.” The edge of Kabal’s hook sword was at Motaro’s neck, causing the other Centaurians to surround him. But Motaro raised a hand to calm their primal instincts, still smiling. “Where the hell are the brothers? Where are Taven and Daegon?”

     “At least you still have balls, Kabal. I am not sure who it is your speak of but I would guess they are going where everyone else is going.” Motaro pointed past Kabal to the Edenian southlands where a massive pyramid was beginning to rise from an equally massive crater. Different warriors were already visibly gathering around the pyramid, prompting Kabal to walk in that direction. Onaga seemed paranoid, already healed from his encounter with Cetrion while Erron Black, even wounded with thorns and burns, maintained a hardened exterior with guns at the ready. When he saw Blaze emerging from a portal with his former ally, Tremor, and one of the demigods, Taven, his pace started to quicken. 

     But Kabal stopped in his tracks when he spotted Kronika approaching the pyramid along with Geras and a frustrated Cetrion. What shocked him most, however, was the appearance of Fujin and his apparent acquiescence with them. But before he could rush to question why Fujin was kneeling before the very people he swore to stop, the Centaurians blocked his path. "Get the fuck out of my way."

     "Whoever gets to the top of that pyramid will become the ultimate being." Motaro shoved Kabal against the other Centaurians, having them snort and laugh. "I will become a Centaurian God and establish our rule over all the realms. Even the Elder Gods will bow to us. You're not going anywhere."

     A Centaurian raised his hand to land the first blow and found that his voice would also raise, screaming from his arm being completely sliced from his body. The brutal death squad was normally instant death against most races among the realms, even the mighty Shokan. But Kabal's frustration had reached a peak and, for the first time, rage had covered the mortal in its heavy shadow. Fujin snapped his focus from Kronika to Kabal, who was approaching the rim of the crater with an aura of Centaurian blood still swirling around his body. Reality struggled to keep up with the effects of his bloodlusted speed.

     “He is just as strong as I thought.” Kronika pulled Fujin from his knees by his chin, stroking his cheek. “Please, go take care of him, dear Fujin. We can’t afford him taking the prize.”

     Spinning his bo staff, Fujin nodded to Kronika and rushed across the crater to stand before an enraged Kabal. “You can not go any further. It is the will of Kronika that you stay away from here.”

     “Fujin, you better start talking some kinda goddamn sense.” Kabal rushed from the crater’s rim and descended to clash his blades against Fujin’s bo staff, staring him down with eyes open wide. Rage and confusion blurred his vision. “Right now!”

     Fujin kicked Kabal in the stomach and twisted his foot deep against his intestines, cutting his rampage short. The god of wind put Kabal on his knees, striking him in the temple with his bo staff. Kabal reeled in pain, shocked that Fujin would use such brutal force against him. “You are foolish to challenge a god, let alone Kronika. Do you not see that this is for the fate of the realms, not just some silly prize? Remain here and do not interfere further. I do not wish to kill, even one such as you.”

     Tears of frustration started to run down Kabal’s cheeks as his knuckles whitened from the grip on his hook swords. Thoughts raced through his head on what he should do and the sight of Fujin so nonchalantly walking away from him only made it worse. His instincts told him to do what came naturally, even raising his hook swords off the ground. But his training was kicking in, his desire to think before acting. Grunting from the tail-end of his pain, Kabal wiped his eyes and took a good hard look at Fujin. At that moment, all he could do was shout. “Why?! Why the fuck did you put me through this?!”

     Fujin stopped suddenly, turning to him from a distance. The winds carried his voice to Kabal’s ears, sounding both confused and concerned. “Through what?”

     Kabal was started to gather his strength again, spitting out a stream of blood before getting back to his feet proper. He stumbled forward, hook swords still firmly in hand with furrowed brows. “This bullshit. The training, the lessons, the Aether --- you said I was the Avatar, the one who could end this! Why are you fucking around with Kronika?! Did she get to you?! Did she threaten you?! What does that bald cunt got on you, Fujin?! Goddammit, answer me!”

     Fujin could feel that his rage was coming from pain and not from a selfish desire to climb the pyramid. His face shifted to empathy as he slowly stepped forward to explain. “Kabal, you must understand---”

     Kabal was open to listening at first but when he saw Fujin gathering wind in his hand, he knew he had to make a decision. In their training sessions, the wind god always held back. But here, he was completely under Kronika’s will and he knew that there was a chance he could be murdered outright. If she knew that he was the potential Avatar, what he had done to come against her. He had been ratted out. He was all alone. Two strong gusts of wind tore through the crater as both Kabal and Fuijin stood at opposite ends now.

     Tears raced down Kabal’s cheeks as his hook swords were outstretched, dripping with blood. Fujin looked on to see a gash in the earth from his attempted wind strike but felt a sharp pain around his neck. Fingers pressed against it only to have them suddenly drenched in red. He turned around to try and look at Kabal but only his body was able to, his head falling from his shoulders to crack against the ground. A geyser of blood rushed from the hole in Fujin’s neck as his body fell to its knees and collapsed in a crimson pool. 

     “What a shame.” Kronika hovered over to view the carnage, smiling. “He was so young.”

     Kabal froze at her last few words, his anger locked in his stomach. His head tilted up to look at the woman and the sickening grin that was spreading across her face. “What did you say?”

     “He died before he got the chance to defend the realms against Shinnok or even take Raiden’s stead.” Kronika hovered past Kabal to settle near Fujin’s remains that were beginning to crumble into sand. “He will never grow to be the strong, mature god that mentors you or becomes the protector of Earthrealm.”

    Kabal struggled to swallow as he did mental gymnastics, wanting to pin down her implications and, at the same time, terrified to have his suspicions confirmed. His voice was shaky but it was unsure if it was founded in fear or anger. “....what the fuck did you do?”

     Kronika opened a swirling blue and black portal beside her and, immediately, Fujin emerged. One hand gripped his throat while the other was holding the Devastator. He used the Aether to bind his neck together, to try and defy the death of his younger self, but it was only temporary. Kabal was shocked to see two Fujins, both suffering from the brutal throat slash he inflicted. He dropped his hook swords and tried to help him, arms curling around his body as he inevitably collapsed. Fujin tried to speak but it was painfully futile, forcing him to grab Kabal by his jacket and stare him in the eyes.

     Kronika was explaining her diabolical plot, of how she pulled a younger Fujin from the timeline as a trap, how killing one version doomed the other, how this was all for the good of the New Era. But it all sounded like a muffled noise to Kabal. He was staring into Fujin’s dying eyes as they burned brightly with the cyan energy of the Aether. In that moment, in the indecision of their silent exchange, Kabal knew that this death was inevitable. He knew that his mentor understood the Devastator wasn’t what was going to kill him. In his final moments, it was confirmed that he knew and accepted his fate. It was confirmed that this was Kabal’s final test when Fujin mouthed “You’re ready. I am proud.” before the glow faded from his eyes. 

     “Did you hear me, Kabal? Or were you too occupied with the last gurgling breaths of the wind god?” Kronika swept away the remains of both Fujins into the ether, dissipating into sand to leave her and Kabal. But before Kabal could get what he wanted to say off his chest, Geras and Cetrion rocketed past them to crash into the side of the crater. Kronika’s gaze snapped to them both, horrified to see that parts of their body were in the middle of necrosis, Cetrion’s branches withering and flesh starting to reveal unraveled muscle. Her head quickly snapped back just in time to see Tremor slam into her, knocking her to the ground. Erron Black was flung back next but Kabal sidestepped just in time, trying to make out who was decimating the kombatants with such might.

     His eyes locked on the top of the pyramid where Blaze had Onaga’s throat in a deathgrip, his reptilian body dangling off the ground as the fire elemental’s body began to change. The otherworldly laughter transitioned from something ancient to something terrifyingly familiar. It was at that point that Kabal didn’t even need to see his burning body change to that sickening inky black. Once those red and yellow eyes flashed at him, his resolve returned and he gave him a death glare. Onaga released one final roar of pain as his once muscular body shriveled in the grip of Sinister Maharana, the Nether being drained back into the devilish overlord. 

     He tossed Onaga’s corpse down the pyramid steps and watched it break along the way, eventually amounting to a pile of broken scraps as it reached the bottom. The skies shifted from orange to a deep purple with darkness starting to creep out of every corner. From behind Sinister emerged D’Vorah, her eyes bright with Nether as one hand suggestively wrapped around Sinister’s waist. The other lifted to the skies to reveal that the darkness wasn’t just the absence of light but the presence of something else. The darkness became loud, buzzing, growling and, soon, swarming into the crater. 

     Sinister’s voice boomed as death closed in on the remaining kombatants. “Armageddon is here.”

 

**TO BE KONTINUED**


	6. Total Khaos

 

**_[Hours Earlier]_ **

 

     Shang Tsung gasped for breath with limbs flailing and eyes bulging, trying to survive the death grip that Sinister Maharana had on his throat. His eyes darted to the side to see the emerging shadow of D’Vorah, who stared him down with the same vitriol as her looming master. Sinister’s body was motionless but the arm that slowly choked the magus was bulging, veins rising along burly muscles. Every painful inhale Shang took was filled with the foul stench of the Netherrealm and Sinister’s signature grape fragrance. Minutes passed with only Shang’s audible struggle to fill the silence before Sinister finally spoke, his voice low and calm yet filled to the brim with malice. “You will not live to feed her, warlock.”

     “Nggkk! Pfffggnkkkslplaaain! Hnnggg!” Shang could barely force out a plea but even he understood that such a thing fell upon deaf ears while in the cold sights of Maharana. Every beat against his obsidian frame only furthered the fracturing of his own, drawing out sharp breaths of pain with every attempt to escape. Eventually, his arms and legs came to hang at his sides and the glaze of defeat washed over his eyes. He wheezed with lips briefly flapping after each blubbering exhale. He was no fool. He knew what death looked like.

     “No, Shang Tsung. No more. Your lifespan has been extended long enough and death has grown vengeful from your defiance.” Sinister’s fingers sank deep enough to pierce through Shang’s flesh, writhing those thick digits into the bands of bloody muscle. “Every word you speak is of a serpent, charming new life to become your slave. And I will be damned if I’m going to allow the whore of Cronus to have that power. You are finished.”

     Blood rushed from Shang’s throat as he released a final, gurgling scream. His voice echoed through the boundless hellscape of the Netherrealm with an incredulous amount of souls rushing from his gaping mouth. Sinister’s hand immediately reached out to anchor them into his palm, drawing the lost souls into a burning, green sphere that, over time, shifted to a familiar purple tint. Hundreds of millions of souls coursed through the amorphous sphere Maharana cradled in his hand and their combined might produced a heavy vibration that spread throughout his body. He could only stare in awe at its brilliant luminescence while his grip on Shang’s fresh corpse was released, letting the loose sack of flesh and bones scrape down the rock formation.

     “Does my lord have what he needs for the final conflict?” D’Vorah’s hands grazed along Sinister’s shoulders, letting his heterochromatic eyes refract light along her own.

     Sinister enclosed the sphere of souls with his mighty grip and allowed his body to radiate with the dense aura of their power, shaking the realm with an immense quake. D’Vorah nearly fell off her feet but her wrist was caught by Sinister’s free hand and gently pulled back up to rest against him. This time, she trembled not because of what was under her feet but due to what now stood beside her. There was a visible sense of anxiety. Nervousness. Fear. She struggled to gather the saliva to swallow and speak but Sinister decided to speak for her. “We have all the power we need, my child. But a final scene for this destructive play must be set before the end. Time to draw the curtains back.”

     Sinister’s eyes burned with a familiar flame, letting his body shift to the flagrant element before laughing.

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

     “Bastard! What the hell have you done?!” Kabal screamed inbetween his supersonic slashing, ripping through a horde of Nether-infused locusts with his hookswords on his way to the pyramid. Erron Black tried his best to shoot beyond the swarm but every bullet met a wall of bugs instead of the intended target grinning at him from atop the pyramid, quickly overpowering the gunslinger. With his flesh already starting to enter necrosis from the bug bites, the last shot rang much closer and his still body was left among the others. Before Kabal could glance at what remained of the fastest gun in Wickett, there were only bones to tell the story. Tremor immediately formed a protective shell of geodes to protect himself and Taven, visibly annoyed with the loud buzzing that bombarded him.

     While the pyramid itself emitted a constant radiance, the crater itself was awash in the blackness of D’Vorah’s mutant swarm. The constant churning of worms and centipedes through the sands, the blaring static of winged creatures flooding the air & the terrifying shadows of arachnids that had no business looking  _ down _ at any mere mortal prevented anyone from reaching the structure’s first step. Geras and Cetrion could only succeed in keeping their mother safe with a whirlwind of eviscerating sand and thorns to fend off the wave of horror that sought to envelop them. Even the time manipulation of both Kronika and Geras were overwhelmed by the trillions upon trillions of insects that were constantly bombarding them, giving no quarter at the command of the Kytinn queen that stood victoriously next to her king. Soon enough, even Kabal’s blades started to adhere to one another from the viscous growth of shed insect blood, leaving him to aimlessly try to swat them away.

     “Alas, here are the greatest this universe has to offer. A shame, really but not entirely unexpected. No god or sorcerer that hails from this dimension has been able to bring a resolve strong enough to best me.” Sinister’s eyes began to radiate with the intense energy of the Nether, his burning gaze coming to rest upon Kabal’s subdued body. “Sorry, Kabal. We’re done with mortals.”

     Intense beams of Nether shot out to impact against Kabal’s damaged body only to find that they were stopped by a pulse of Aether. Again, he tried to blast Kabal into a state of nonexistence but the Nether was negated by another short burst of Aether that incinerated the insect swarm which covered his body. Before the third attempt was even put forth, Sinister paused, laying his eyes not upon a man defeated but a warrior renewed. D’Vorah’s swarm encircled the speed demon as Aether wafted from him in a bright blue halo. His eyes immediately locked with Sinister’s, hookswords clenched tighter than ever before. “That we can agree on.”

     “The Aether Avatar?! You?! And here I thought I was merely seeing things. You are supposed to be the predestined guardian of this universe against me? You are who the Pantheon chose?” Laughter bellowed out from Sinister’s stomach as he flexed his musculature with a powerful burst of Nether flaring up from his body, the black and purple aura forcing D’Vorah to take a few steps back. “You are a human, a thug that was forced into a role you barely understand. I am beyond you in every way possible, Kabal. Cleave unto me, as D’Vorah has, and understand your place.”

     Kabal flexed his arms out with a sudden snap, annihilating a wide radius of D’Vorah’s swarm and making his resolve all the more clear from atop the pyramid. With a hooksword pointing to Sinister, he spoke in a voice that made even Kronika pause. “My place is right on top of that pyramid, with my foot in your ass.”

     “My lord, This One sees the Kamidogu are all here but the amulet. Shall I retrieve it for you?” A wave of Aether raced past D’vorah’s face, missing her only by mere inches and chipping off a chunk of the pyramid in the process. Her face was locked in both fear and awe at Kabal’s sudden strength. 

     “Go retrieve the amulet from Raiden, D’Vorah. They can do nothing without the lynchpin.” Sinister reached to stroke at D’vorah’s face before gesturing for her to leave. “And you can do nothing more here. I will keep the unruly children in line until you return. Then, the Vantablack Genesis will officially begin.”

     D’Vorah’s blackened swarm soon dissipated upon her departure through a Nether portal, leaving Sinister to stare down at his detractors. Teeth were revealed bit by bit as a widened smile stretched across his face, gesturing for someone to come. “Well? Aren’t one of you here for the ultimate power? Just because Blaze was assimilated doesn’t mean the prophecy has to go to waste. This is your final stand against me. Be grateful I am giving you a modicum of mercy. Think of it as the last of your silly Mortal Kombat tournaments. One by one, you may challenge me. If you win, your realm may just be saved and perhaps you can even rebuild it. But if you lose, then you will be assimilated to join the others who dared to defy the will of Achlys.”

     “I am so fuckin’ sick of hearing you talk!” Kabal raced from near the edge of the crater to the middle of the pyramid’s ascending steps but soon found himself going backwards. His world reverted back to where he initially stood just a few seconds earlier, turning around to a vicious right hook by Geras. 

     “I, too, tire of this. It is time for this to end. Permanently.” Geras started to make his way to the pyramid as Kronika followed in tow. But he turned around sharply, flashing her a cold stare. “It is in your best interest to remain here with Cetrion.”

     “Geras, I appreciate your assistance but I will ensure that our plan goes just as I have foreseen it. You do not need to fight for me much longer.” As Kronika tried to explain herself, stepping around Geras, she too was greeted with a vicious punch to the temple, knocking her into the arms of her daughter. 

     “I am not fighting for your plan. I am fighting for my freedom. My rest. You, on the other hand, are fighting for tyranny, just as he is. As I said before, it is in your best interest to remain here with Cetrion.” Geras continued forward to Cetrion’s horror and Kronika’s shock, watching him get a running head start to reach the first steps of the pyramid. Just as he hoped to ascend it, a blunt stalagmite ruptured from the earth and knocked Geras backwards. After his body smashed a crater into the ground, his blurred vision soon cleared to see Tremor walking past him and Taven’s body encased in diamond from the neck down.

     “You are not the only one who seeks freedom, time shifter. I will beat the power out of this shadow that ravaged the realms and enact my own form of justice.” His heavy steps were heard around the crater, heavy thuds that quaked the earth. Before the others could rush to stop him, his arms extended out and summoned multiple, dense walls of crystals to encircle the pyramid. Cetrion attempted to manipulate his gems but found that he was actively countering her manipulation of the planet, even going so far as to create a struggle of whether or not a recently risen stalagmite would impale her throat. As it edged forward and ebbed back numerous times, she finally stepped from its path and looked on to the shimmering, multicolored wall that impeded her. “Spending time in the Dream Realm gave me great clarity, expanding my power. Once I defeat Sinister, I will take your place as an Elder God, Cetrion.”

     “Quite the bravado coming from someone I’ve only seen in scant surveillance. And here I thought you to be another of those ninjas, just with a different flavor. Besides rocks and gems, what do you bring to the table that could topple my favor?” Sinister watched Tremor’s ascent, listening to Geras and Kabal strike at the gemstone wall with everything they had.

     “You’d be surprised what a pile of rocks can do, Maharana.” At the halfway point of the pyramid steps, jets of magma erupted from Tremor’s feet to propel him to the top of the structure, his right hand already primed to smash against Sinister’s face.

     But, as assumed, the bulky club of an appendage was caught in Sinister’s outstretched hand and the earth ninja was brought to the ground with a sudden, brutal headbutt. Almost immediately, Tremor found Sinister’s heel driven against his throat and the sound of that ominous laughter filling his ears. “How primitive! More caveman maneuvers from the final Kombatants. I’m not surprised you’ll be the first to go but this will be the second neck I’ve broken today. What a pitiful fatality for a worthless fighter. What even  _ was _ your name?”

     While flesh and rock both collapsed under Maharana’s might, the heat around them started to grow rapidly, the air becoming superheated from the sudden temperature shift. With Sinister’s mouth opening again to try and deliver a quirky reply, his lips stopped and his eyes widened when they saw Tremor’s body starting to glow. A powerful flash from the ninja’s body momentarily blinded Maharana, making him scream in pain while backing away from his downed body. Coughing up blood, Tremor rose to his feet with the gems in his body forming a thick outer layer, one that shone through the darkness of Edenia. “Thermoluminescence. Primitive but effective for creatures of the dark like you.”

     Sinister was flabbergasted from what had happened. Though he hadn’t lost any of his power, he could barely move. The scalding pain of the light only furthered his intermittent screams as he fell to the ground, doing little else but stroking the ornate surface of stone and metal that made up the pyramid’s peak. With so much light to counter the darkness that naturally fed into Sinister’s ability to move at ungodly speeds, he was effectively crippled into a catatonic state. Teeth clenched as he glared at Tremor’s approaching body, that hunk of rock he had insulted earlier now glowing with an intensity rivaling the sun. But even Tremor knew he couldn’t keep up this amount of light for long. So, he did what came naturally -- smashing.

\---------------------------------------------

 

     Raiden’s meditation within the Jinsei Chamber was not as peaceful as it used to be when he wielded godhood. The pangs of mortality, his recent bout of corruption and the overall failure of his role as protector raced through his mind. But even with a stilled body and steadied breathing, there were moments of indecision that started to plague him. Images of Liu Kang being pulled from Shao Kahn’s coliseum and Kung Lao’s dead body forced tears to run down his cheeks, enacting a pain that even the Jinsei couldn’t hope to heal. Breaking from his steady flow of breathing, his shaken voice spoke to the ether. “I...am sorry. Please forgive me….”

     “Your forgiveness is not needed.” Another voice soon joined him, along with the steady clack of what seemed to be high heels. The silence grew even more sparse with the addition of two giant wasps that rushed the former thunder god, stingers at the ready. “Lord Maharana requires your amulet. Nothing more.”

     Raiden’s eyes opened as he rolled from the path of the two giant wasps, just in time for them to become engulfed in the Jinsei stream. Formed with Nether, the insects buzzed erratically, unable to handle the contention of the two primordial energies. Their bodies exploded with viscous fluid splattering near Raiden and his gaze snapped to the approaching D’Vorah. “Maharana’s maggot. Begone from this place and return to your pitiful master’s feet!”

     D’Vorah’s appearance had changed drastically since she entered Sinister’s employ, the most striking change being her yellow exoskeleton. It had changed to an inky black with accents of purple that glowed with her infused power of the Nether. Her wings had split into four, mirroring that of a dragonfly with a dense, bony frame. Her teeth were nearly as sharp and horrific as the Tarkatans, save the visage of her humanoid face that helped hide them. Even her voice was layered, speaking through multiple entities that writhed within similar to Ermac. She stepped forward with Nether oozing from her body. “I will enjoy feeding you to my children.”

     Raiden entered a fighting stance, holding his ground in front of the Jinsei Stream while the center jewel of Shinnok’s Amulet started to glimmer. He could hear the faint whispers of its forbidden power calling for him to use it but he swiftly denied its influence, keeping his eyes on D’Vorah. “Do not let my mortality fuel your foolishness. There is more to fear than lightning.”

     D’Vorah’s shriek filled the chamber as she raced through the air, her stingers immediately emerging from her back to try and impale Raiden. The former thunder god rolled from her path but was disheartened when she stopped before she could be incinerated by the Jinsei Stream. He hurriedly started to look around for anything he could use as a weapon. In the midst of his searching, he heard the rapid clacking of D’Vorah’s stinger legs speeding toward him along the stone floor, letting her get close enough to snap her teeth near his face. Though mortal, Raiden’s ability to jerk, sway and dodge out of danger was nothing short of impressive, though the sweat that rapidly poured from his head let him know just how difficult it was without his godly powers. Eventually, he was bested by D’Vorah’s speed when she tripped him up with one of her stingers, sending him tumbling to the floor.

     Though Raiden tried to block her deadly assault, he found himself gritting through the pain of having his limbs sliced and shredded by her barbed stingers. He screamed in pain when the insect queen’s razor sharp teeth sank into his shoulder, tearing out the chunk of muscle and hungrily swallowing it before snapping her jaws at him for more. Bleeding and struggling to stay alive, Shinnok’s Amulet once more called to him but it was in a voice that he didn’t initially recognize. It urged for him to use it, flooding his thoughts with a chaotic stream of consciousness. But instead of submitting, Raiden found the opportunity between dodging droplets of corrosive Nether and the barrage of stinger strikes to slam his feet into D’Vorah’s chest. The last-minute strike launched her into the air and was followed up by a powerful spinning kick to send her careening to the other side of the chamber.

     “As I said before, leave this place! Hnngg!” Raiden’s condition was grim. With blood seeping from his wounds and droplets of Nether already working to introduce parts of his body to the agony of necrosis, he trembled in his fighting stance.

     D’Vorah quickly found her footing and laughed at Raiden, clicking her stingers against the ground to taunt him. “You wield the amulet, yet you do not use it? This One did not know the loss of your godhood coincided with the loss of your wisdom. Submit, Raiden!”

     Barely able to stand from D’Vorah’s assault, Raiden’s eyes darted between her and the Jinsei Stream. He wanted to utilize the Aether within the Jinsei to heal himself but knew that Shinnok’s Amulet would quickly change him back to the monster he once was. Part of him also wanted to use the amulet just to rid himself of D’Vorah but the risk of his corruption came once again. For the first time, the pain of indecision wore down the willpower of the former thunder god, wading through uncertainty as the blood loss continued. “Ever since this darkness started to plague the realms, I have always looked to others for the power to resolve my issues. My godlike power, the amulet, the Aether and even the help of fellow kombatants. But now, more than ever, when they have all fallen, I...must….stand.”

     D’Vorah’s neck jerked a bit with teeth widening at Raiden’s resolve. “Honorable speech, Raiden. At least you’ve acknowledged your weakness before you die.”

     “Etah….asem solah...ekmay inluh kata…” Raiden’s muscles tensed as he chanted with clenched fists and a gaze that pierced the soul. His fighting stance grew strong, the blood that was steadily seeping from his wounds now slowing and the necrosis soon petered out along parts of his body. “Even without my power, D’Vorah…”

     D’Vorah barely let him finish, racing toward him as she had done before to vomit a black spray of Nether in his face with stingers at the ready. But her bloodthirsty expression was soon exchanged for one of shock when she saw the sheer willpower of Raiden’s new mortal form at work. The former thunder god whipped his thick, lustrous hair in front with strong rotations of his neck to mitigate the liquid Nether. Almost immediately, the ebony liquid ate his hair away down to the root, leaving him to snap his neck up and scream louder than he thought he could in the face of certain death. A fist was cast out to shatter through the insect queen’s face, burning through the sea of Nether and maggots that filled her, to emerge as mostly bone on the other side. “I am still a god!”

     With bravado and new confidence also came the pain of his gamble. Raiden coughed up blood, looking down to see that all four of her stingers had impaled into his sides. He shoved her unresponsive body to the ground before falling backwards, groaning as her stingers were ripped from his body. Breathing was a dangerous chore, especially with more and more blood rising from his throat. But in his last moments, Raiden did not mire in regret. “K...Kabal….thank...you. Earthrealm….is now...in...your hands…”

     Light faded from Raiden’s eyes as one final gurgle of blood ushered him from his mortal coil. For what seemed like ages, the only sound that filled the eerie silence of the Jinsei Chamber was the flow of Earthrealm’s energies. But soon, the shell of D’Vorah’s corpse cracked open and a flying insect, the size of her torso, crawled from the gaping maw in her chest. With sleek black legs hanging underneath its fat belly and wings fluttering above its shiny, purple shell, the bug hovered over to Raiden and plucked Shinnok’s Amulet from his shredded garb. Lazily, it rose through the air and out from the temple, pulled by the call of its master.

\---------------------------------------------

     Tremor was making little, if any, real progress in his desire to destroy Sinister. Although his thermoluminescence kept Sinister in a virtually defenseless state, none of his attacks had any lasting effect. From breaking his back to crushing his skull to even flooding his innards with magma, every bit of pain inflicted faded away due to Sinister’s regenerative, fluid body. He was growing tired and his blinding lights were slowly starting to dim with every passing minute, eventually letting frustration set in. “What...the hell are you? Why won’t you die?!”

     “Did...did you really think  _ beating _ me to death was the answer?” Sinister’s laughter filled the crater once again while his body started to latch onto Tremor, the semisolid material of his flesh swarming across that rocky texture. The rock golem’s lights, like his hopes of winning, quickly dimmed. “You are but a whore of Gaia, the very dust beneath my feet that has the audacity to cobble together a conscience. I appreciate what impromptu light show you managed to put on but you’ll put on a better performance as a part of me.”

     “No…” Tremor tried everything to get the amorphous creature off of him, from smashing him against the pyramid to putting the very last of his energy into more thermoluminescence. However, it only furthered his exhaustion and made Sinister’s gruesome assimilation of his body all the more horrific. Craggly pieces of hardened skin were pulled from his muddy brown flesh, strings of skin adhering to the underside of each fragment to release torrents of hot blood. Bands of muscle and sinew were absorbed into the darkness of Maharana’s body like a black hole, ripped from the frame of his skeleton. Every scream was caught in his throat, whittled down to pitiful whines. “Please no! Just kill me! Kill me...please…”

     Geras and Kabal stopped their progress against the dense gem walls surrounding the pyramid, seeing that they were being returned to the Earth. Their gazes shot upward to Sinister, who was controlling the formation of the barrier and forcing it to retreat through Tremor’s stolen power. They then saw the descent of a massive fly and they were soon fighting among one another when they spotted Shinnok’s Amulet in its grasp. Unfortunately, the insect hovered over to Sinister, dropping the amulet into his hand to marvel at. The center jewel gleamed with a familiar power.

     “Finally, after years of searching for the true amulet of Shinnok, I have it. The key to the other Kamidogu.” Sinister looked directly at Kronika, pointing his finger in her direction. “Now, bring me those knives.”

     Kabal spun his hookswords as he started making his way to the pyramid steps, brimming with Aether. “I got some knives for ya, you walking oil slick.”

     “Kabal, stop!” Kronika extended a hand out to the eager kombatant, listening to him struggle to free himself from her temporal manipulation. “It’s more than obvious that he wants to divide and conquer, eliminating us one at a time while we fight each other. While we may have devolved into every person for themselves, as unfortunate as I must admit, we can not allow him to gather the Kamidogu.”

     Geras turned to Kronika with a straight face. “And  _ you _ would be the more preferable wielder, I assume?”

     Kronika’s hands rested upon the Kamidogu that were sheathed beneath her cloak, taking a few steps back. “This is  _ not _ about power. It is about  _ containment _ and  _ control _ . The creature that stands above us must be quarantined, managed, just like the One Being!”

     Cetrion turned her mother about to face her, also puzzled by her desire to have the Kamidogu. “Though you are correct about their purpose, they do not belong to you, mother. The Kamidogu are the creation of the Elder Gods and rightfully belong to us. If I recall, it was your meddling among the timelines that spurred this entire incident in the first place.”

     Kabal’s body fell out of Kronika’s time freeze as her attention shifted to her subordinates. He tapped his hookswords against the pyramid steps, turning his attention to them as well. “Wait, what? Are you saying all of this was because Kronika wanted to fuck with time?”

     “Tell them.” Cetrion’s voice was void of any compassion, speaking down to her own mother as if she were a child. Rage brimmed in her eyes but her body was so gracefully composed, that it took quite a bit of perception to grasp the depth of her fury. “Tell them, mother. Speak!”

     “Don’t you  _ dare _ raise your voice to me, you ungrateful bitch!” Kronika impaled Cetrion through the chest with power coalescing through her body, stealing her daughter’s very essence. “I made you and I can  _ unmake _ you.”

     Taven’s diamond restraints soon crumbled, allowing him to make his silent retreat to the opposite side of the pyramid. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, nearly freezing in his tracks when Kronika tossed Cetrion’s lifeless body to the ground. When she grabbed ahold of Geras next, his steps quickened and he feared that her sights would soon turn to him if he was discovered. Even as a son of Argus, he questioned whether or not this was still his destiny.

     “You want your eternal rest?” With Cetrion’s absorbed power, Kronika easily overpowered Geras’ fierce hooks and invasive grapples, flashing with a blue aura aimed at her once-trusted time golem. With a loud scream, she tore him limb from limb with her raw temporal energy, freezing each piece in time as they hovered lifelessly in the air. She stepped through his blood, allowing it to stain her body as every footstep wandered closer to Kabal. “Now, you have it.”

     Kabal tried to speed blitz Kronika but her wrath was immense, instead being flung away from her to have his spine crack against a jagged boulder. All feeling from the neck down had vanished before he hit the ground and the process of misery had begun. At first came sputtered inquiries, a mouth frothing with the desire to know, to confirm. Then came a furious bout of denial rife with expletives so loud and so frequent, his voice grew hoarse. But the tears only came when the flow of Aether that invigorated his body, the cyan aura that fueled his desire, was nowhere to be found. It was then that true fear took hold, a mere spectator to the titans that were primed to face one another and decide his fate.

     “Crippling the Aether Avatar for me? Eliminating useless fodder? Even bringing me the Kamidogu like I asked? If you’re trying to gain favor for the Vantablack Genesis, it’s working.” Sinister became comfortable atop the pyramid once again, watching Kronika float up the steps, not even bothering to rest her feet.

     “How disillusioned you are. I didn’t do this for you. My daughter was right. All of this, including your being here, was a byproduct of my design. You see, Maharana, I saw my future. Many futures. In some, I would be defeated. In some, I was replaced. In others, nothing happened at all. But in each and every one, my fate was no better than being a slave to time, constantly reworking the hourglass of this confined universe, seeing the same chess pieces move across the board in an infinite number of ways. I was a prisoner of fate before you came along. You are able to escape fate, travel to an innumerable amount of dimensions and twist reality to your liking.” Kronika reached the top of the pyramid and hovered mere feet away from Maharana. She smiled from ear to ear and widened her blue eyes. “Shao Kahn wanted that power but he fell. Reiko wanted that power but he was a fool. The only being worthy to take that power from you is  _ me _ . With that power, I will control time, not just here, but in  _ every _ universe.  _ Every _ possible dimension. I will never exhaust, never submit to the dulled sense of monotony. I will be the center of  _ everything _ . All you have to do is hand over the amulet and this can all end.”

     “It already has.” Shinnok’s Amulet sent a surge of crimson energy through Sinister that sent him to his knees in agony, soon rising into the air. The Kamidogu blades that then crippled Kronika pulled from their sheaths to do the same, coming together with the amulet in a red haze that spoke in a familiar voice. Blood dripped from the blades’ edges with the same urgency of torrential rainfall, congregating in a thick puddle in the center of the pyramid. As a figure rose from the viscous pool, Sinister immediately discarded his shock and tried to tackle the figure only to be knocked into a stone pillar at the pyramid’s edge. More crimson energy crackled as the being took the shape of Havik, his bony smile aimed at Kronika. 

     But there was something off about the resurrected cleric of chaos. The golden aura that washed over him, the way each Kamidogu sank into his body almost seamlessly and the disturbingly calm nature of his voice ---- this couldn’t be the same person. And just then, Kronika realized who was looking at her, annihilating her confidence and forcing her to leech off of the anxious energy of sheer terror. The being who was once split is now one.

  
  


**TO BE KONTINUED**


	7. Flawless

Amidst the still-smoldering rubble of the Temple of Pekara, Takeda and Jin struggled to find the sacred Sento once wielded by Kenshi. After a half hour of ripping up earth and overturning crumbling slabs of stone, Jin expressed his usual disdain. "Fuck! Where in the fuck is that sword?! It couldn't be wedged in a secret compartment or sticking out the ground with a beam of light to lead the way?"

      "Well, maybe there  _ is _ a better way to look for it other than rummaging through this debris. Is there any way you can use your telekinesis to sense for it?" Jin rested a foot stop a tall mound of rocks, hands at his sides.

     "It doesn't work that way, Jin. I'm not some walking metal detector. I can only sense changes in spiritual energy, living people, all that." Takeda's whips crushed more blocks of concrete, scouring the immense field.

     "I mean, it wouldn't hurt, right?" Jin shrugged.

     A few moments of silence urged Takeda to take Jin's suggestion, closing his eyes with two fingers placed on his temples. Though he initially couldn't feel anything, a faint energy started to resonate from deep beneath the rubble. Takeda scraped through layers of rock to find the pulsing signal that steadily grew stronger with his efforts.  As he was about to push aside the damaged face of a temple statue, he saw a sliver of steel jutting out from behind its ear.

     Carefully, Takeda moved each stone piece until the glowing blade of Sento was finally revealed. There was an audible whine him that both he and Jin could hear, the unknown energy flowing out with an ethereal aura. Takeda lifted the blade by its handle, trying to concentrate on the noise it kept emitting. The more he focused, the more the odd noise was translated into words. Though he could only make out two of them, they were enough to save his life ---  _ BEHIND...YOU... _

     Takeda's body swayed back to avoid the iron club of an oni, watching it smash a crater into the the ground beside him. His eyes flicked up to catch sight of his accoster, both intrigued and disgusted. The oni’s muscles were completely exposed, having skeletal fragments jut out from along his joints and along his limbs. Though the iron club mounted on his arm wasn’t sharp, it was massive. A swarm of flies started to shoot out from between his ribbons of muscle, swarming around him with a nearly deafening buzz. Even the creature’s voice was plagued with a permanent rasp. But the most spine-chilling detail about him was the purple aura that started to resonate around his body.

     “That aura...that...energy. Who sent you?!” Takeda shook off the initial shock and aimed the edge of Sento at the oni. Meanwhile, Jin’s hand started to grip his chakram.

     “I’m not sure who you’re pointing that blade at, youngling. I know thousands of ways to make you scream with the hilt alone.” Drahmin started to swirl around a swarm of flies with his fingers and flung them at Jin’s armed hand. The insects immediately sported a purple glow, tearing the first layer of flesh with an invigorated buzzing. “Maybe we can use your friend over there as a learning opportunity.”

     Although a trained warrior, Takeda’s swings with the Sento blade were amateur and it rooted an ego-boosting assumption in Drahmin’s mind. The oni easily parried every blow while the weapon’s unusual blue glow quickly faded, leaving Takeda wide open for a brutal counterattack across his face. Teeth rattled in his skull as his body flew across the piles of debris, skidding to a stop beside one of the broken statues of an ancestor. Shaking the dust from his hair, his eyes darted back and forth from Drahmin to Sento. “What the hell is going on? If this is the sword my dad told me about, why the hell is it trying to get me killed?”

     “And I think you meant to ask who sent  _ us _ .” Jin’s scream could be heard across the island as his feet left the ground, suddenly in the mammoth grip of the blue oni, Moloch. The giant beast was noticeably scarred from his previous encounter with Fujin and his third eye was obscured with damaged tissue. He too glowed with the purple energies of the Nether. “Lord Maharana kept us as insurance, just in case anyone got any bright ideas about picking up that sword. We’re the guardians of this island until his rule has been made absolute.”

     “Son of a bitch. He knew.” Takeda hurried to his feet, feeling anger overwhelm him and, at the same time, losing any confidence he had to put a stake in this fight. His focus on the sword was waning and all he could hear coming from it were incomprehensible frequencies. The longer he remained in indecision, the more Jin cried out in pain from Moloch slowly crushing his rib cage. Drahmin’s steps were distant but approaching at a steady pace, leaving Takeda in a position he had trained for a great deal. He had to find the calm within his own storm.

     “TakedAAAAAAAAGGHHH!” Jin struggled to get a hold of Moloch, reaching back to gouge out the creature’s eyes. Although he was momentarily dropped, the impact that radiated through his feet electrified his freshly-cracked rib cage, sending him tumbling to his knees. Moloch took full advantage of his position, stomping his body against the ground and grabbing ahold of his arms. Leaning back, the oni was determined to literally pull him apart as an added bonus. Jin’s scream was starting to fade and stutter, interrupted by bursting blood vessels swelling his throat with fluid. 

     But instead of rushing to Jin’s aid, Takeda closed his eyes and drowned out his screams. He sat in a kneeling position with Sento resting along his open palms, focusing on the frequencies that once again sounded like a garbled mess. His breathing steadily slowed, as did his thought process, removing everything from thought except for the sword. Veins throbbed along his forehead and sweat steadily began to pour from his face. While Drahmin assumed it was from his fear of an imminent and brutal defeat, Takeda knew better. The frequencies eventually quelled into a plethora of voices that whispered, speaking in hushed tones. 

     He couldn’t understand what they were saying, their suggestions and ideas muddled within millions of other voices. Though, Takeda persisted, even when Drahmin’s steps were mere feet away from his seated position. As Drahmin’s iron club was raised over Takeda’s head, a voice, calm yet firm, cut through the whispers and instructed the warrior’s heart. “Swing.”

     The motions were faster than Takeda himself could realize, not aware of what he had just done until Drahmin’s iron club hit a nearby stone with a heavy clank. Moloch stopped his torture of Jin and looked over with a bit of concern, seeing how Drahmin was already clutching the stump that used to be his weapon-laden arm.  Takeda’s body was pulsing with a familiar cyan energy that originated from Sento but his eyes remained closed. “It’s been staring me in the face all this time but I could never really see it.”

     “Hm? Don’t let a little butchery perk you up too much. I’ve clawed out many a man’s intestines with this hand.” Drahmin thrust his hand toward Takeda’s chest, expecting him to counter and instinctively used it as a feint. But the swing of his blade didn’t come and it left him awkwardly standing a few feet from Takeda, unsure of what to think. “What is the matter with you? Too scared to move?”

     “I’ve let my emotions be the guiding path and all they’ve brought me is pain and suffering. Even worse, they’ve brought my closest friend closer to death every time. I was blinded by rage, by vengeance.” Takeda raised Sento’s edge toward Drahmin, this time with no sense of hesitation. The strange steel stood rigid, firm in his grasp. “But now, I see that there’s more to this than brute force, more than a bad temper.”

     This time, Drahmin’s bare hand rushed to try and tear Takeda’s throat out, not preoccupied with any belief that he would try and counter this time around. But the oni’s sudden grasping of air would be his final sensation before that limb fell before him. Flies burst from Drahmin’s muscles to swarm around the young warrior but even their incessant buzzing and Nether-infused appetite weren’t enough to fell him. Sento’s glowing blade rushed through the air at incredulous speeds, blending the Netherrealm insects with a righteous heat and deflecting the corrosive acid they spewed. Flicking the ancient steel of the slick acid which failed to eat through its surface, Takeda once more aimed the edge of Sento at Drahmin. “Flee back to your master.”

     Drahmin spewed a fog of corrosive Nether from his mouth, forcing Takeda to twirl his blade for deflection. The oni quickly used the opportunity to rush him with a headbutt, launching his body off the ground for more force. But instead of striking the young warrior, he found himself crashing against rubble with his ancient mask flying in the opposite direction. The chains that were keeping the Face of Kun Lo braced against his head were shattered, revealing his rotting visage and ramping up his aggression. "Bastard!"

     "That mask, it's more than decoration. I can hear the voice inside it, like a master taming its dog." Takeda pressed a few fingers against the side of his head, eyes closed tight. "And I just cut your leash."

     "Rrrraaaagghhh!" Drahmin's teeth gnashed, his jaw snapping while he rushed at Takeda. With every vicious clack of his teeth, every gutteral growl, his mind melted away as Takeda swayed along with the madness. Instead of acting on his own understanding, he leaned against his ancestors within Sento, synchronizing his spirit with their wisdom and experience. Though he had the body of an amateur, he was now fighting like a master.

     Nether consolidated quickly inside Drahmin's mouth as he vomited the black necrotic sludge in rapid bursts at Takeda. Moloch ran up from behind to try and keep the young warrior still, only to grab air. The nimble movements of Takeda spelled doom for the oni duo, allowing Drahmin's necrotic misfire to drench Moloch's face instead. The blue giant screamed as his lips sloughed, his eyes frothed and his face corroded into not much else but a crumbling hole of blackened bone. In the midst of his partner's suffering, Drahmin could make out the swift, metallic pang of a blade.

     Drahmin's vision drifted to either side of his head, having the rest of his bifurcated body soon follow. The heavy slosh of organs against stone faded into a loud sizzling from the Aether burning away his body. But Moloch's determination was daunting and his iron ball swung haphazardly in his blinded state. Though, instead of dodging or deflecting it, Takeda sliced right through the dense sphere. With a blinding flash, Sento carved into the oni's weapon, through his arm and past his skull. 

     "Now, I understand." Moloch's innards spilled from his neck as he collapsed, prompting Takeda to finally open his eyes. Jin's agonizing groans once more filled his ears and he rushed over to his injured friend with a renewed vigor. "Jin! Can you move?"

     "Yes...but I would hope not to. Heh." His weak laughter was muddled with bloody coughs, turned onto his back by Takeda. Jin instinctively placed his hands on his chest, interlocking his fingers with a wavering gaze. "You need to find Sinister. You have Sento now. You can stop him."

     "First, we have to get you healed up." Takeda tried to move Jin but the latter's immediate screams of pain made him relent. "Damn. That oni smashed you up good."

     "Don't worry about me, Takeda. You have to go...ah...stop Sinister." Blood oozed from Jin's mouth with every word, glossing Takeda's face with worry.

     "I'm not gonna leave you to bleed to death in the middle of this rubble! Maybe you can use your chi to stabilize you or maybe Sento can--" Takeda went through a plethora of options but was stopped when Jin placed a hand on his cheek.

     "These wounds are  _ mortal _ , Takeda. I only have seconds. We've fought for years now, trying to find  _ something _ in the realms that would vindicate our struggle. This is it. I will taste justice in my passing because I know  _ you _ can do it." Jin coughed up more blood, letting it run off his chin. "My cousin and his grandfather brought honor to my family. Please, let my death carry the same weight."

     Takeda tried to focus on Sento, refusing to believe that Jin was dying. But when Jin's eyes went blank, Takeda's flooded with pain. Emotion clawed through his mind, drenching his face with sorrow as he struggled to understand what he should do. After a moment of immense grief, the glow of Sento overwhelmed him, prompting him to kneel beside his friend's body. Takeda closed his eyes after gently closing Jin's, wiping the blood off his mouth in the process.

     "I promise you, Jin, your death will not be in vain." Takeda's blood-soaked hand wiped across Sento, prompting flickers of crimson through the cyan aura. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------

 

     Havik's fingers slowly dug into Kronika's helpless face, pulling flesh from one of its screaming halves. "You and your bastard children saw fit to split my mind into pieces and turn the very act of my freedom into a commercialized deathmatch? How much disrespect can you possibly  _ have _ for your progenitor?!"

     Kronika managed to push herself away from his grasp with her hands trying to cover to freshly revealed muscle fibers and sloughing bits of fat. "It was n-necessary! You were going to devour us all!"

     Havik laughed, The One Being fully overtaking him. "And why do you think that is? Why do you think you have been toiling away trying to balance the timelines only to be thwarted again and again? Because this was never supposed to be, none of it was! That's why it is always destined to end in total destruction."

      Kronika managed to stand up and use her power to slow the blood flow to a trickle, wincing in pain. "Even if what you say is true, nothing could have prepared for Sinister. That stain on the timelines is a virus that will annihilate everything!"

     "Exactly. How do you think such a creature managed to get here?" Havik crossed his arms over his chest, turning to see Sinister standing cautiously by one of the pillars. "Onaga, Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung --- they all failed to follow my temptation to the end. None of them had the might to gather my body and bring me back to life. Even Shinnok was too short-sighted to revive me in full. Essentially, there was no one in the realms that could have brought about such a fate. So, after countless timelines of failure, one popped up that gave me the idea. One with costumed heroes from a completely different dimension."

     Kronika's eyes darted around until she figured out what he was talking about. "So you...you're responsible for this? For all of this?!  _ You _ brought Sinister here?!"

     Sinister's body glitched from the speed he was moving, appearing beside Havik with a bladed arm ready to strike. But Havik, fully possessed by The One Being, easily disrupted his efforts with a swift and powerful throat grab. As his thumb sank down against his throat, Aether began flaring up around his body, instantly weakening the dark fiend. "I needed someone who was more determined and hungrier than the others I had influenced, someone outside the realms who could defeat any and everyone who would try to stop him, including you, Kronika. After all, he detests your kind."

     Kronika started to look around and realized that, as time passed, the other realms gathered within the crater. Chaosrealm was becoming adjacent to Earthrealm with Netherrealm creeping to the forefront, fragmented realities slowly converging on the pyramid. "So you're...you're going to do it. You're just going to destroy everyone and everything? Then what?!"

     "Then there will be no more suffering. No more death and destruction. No more timeline balancing. We will all return to the peace of the ether, as it was meant to be." Havik dropped Sinister to the ground and gently placed his foot on his chest, keeping him subdued with the Aether alone. "This time, there will be no interjections or delays. Stoking the flames of conflict between the kombatants took care of anyone who could ever come against me. So, take in your final sights before you return to the calming womb of creation."

     "I don't know, my guy! Sounds like bullshit to me!" A massive slash of Aether ruptured through Earthrealm, traveling toward the pyramid. Kronika dove out of the way, letting it impact Havik, who effortlessly absorbed it. Takeda landed in the center of the structure's stairway, quickly ascending with a blood-stained piece of Jin's garb wrapped around his eyes like a blindfold.

     Havik's godly laughter reached throughout the realms as his eyes were cast upon the blindfolded Takeda, sinking his foot deeper into Sinister's chest. "Ah, the bastard son of Kenshi. And just how much suffering has this existence wrought you? Your family, your friends --- all murdered and for what? Resisting the inevitable. One way or another, it was always going to end in an Armageddon. The most powerful beings in all the realms now tremble before the god of gods, Aether and Nether are my humble servants and you can barely wield Sento. Surrender."

     "This cub is not alone, Wakan Tanka. Though you may be supreme, the spirits do  _ not _ follow your path." Nightwolf emerged from a radiant beam of light that appeared beside Kabal, eyes brimming with spiritual energies. He squeezed the handle of his tomahawk and lifted its blade to the skies with a shout. Lightning struck both he and Kabal's bodies, resonating through the entire crater. As Kabal regained feeling in his legs, Nightwolf's were already making long, hurried strides toward the pyramid.

     "Shaman, I  _ am _ the spirits. I am your  _ tenacity _ , your  _ defiance _ , even the  _ air _ you breathe so venomously. You are nothing but a walking dream whose existence has been extended to the day it has by apathy." Havik's hand started to glimmer like starlight while Kronika made her way down from the pyramid. "Don't let your final gasps of air be prefaced by this foolishness. Submit."

     "I'd rather be a fool than a slave." Nightwolf's lone walk to the crater stopped as Kabal came to stand by his side with hook swords at the ready. "Whenever you're ready, Geronimo."

     "Hmph. A child, a thug and a common shaman? You'll be dead before you reach the top." Havik's shimmering hand aimed at Takeda, ready to obliterate him with pure Aether.

     "Not if I help them get there." Geras' body was suddenly reforming after Kronika's concentration in holding his fragments in a time freeze was broken. Understanding the scale of the situation, he made his way over to stand beside Kabal and Nightwolf. "In all my years, all I ever wanted was freedom, to rest without strife. Now I understand that  _ feeling _ originated from  _ you _ . That clawing desire to be free, knowing that others live and die endlessly without any resolve in sight. But if freedom means such a chaotic end, then I will continue my suffering, alongside the mortals.”

     “Then I will display the power of the one and only true god!” Havik’s hand shifted to aim at Kronika while she looked at him with fear welling in her face, teeth clenched in feeble resistance. With a vicious snap of his fingers, Kronika’s scream soon devolved into echoing, blurred layers as her body ruptured into a vapor that Havik quickly inhaled through his mouth. “Four snaps of my fingers and you will come to understand that you were never meant to be.”

     “Edu….Edu….” There was a terrible rumbling that came from beneath Havik’s foot. While the Aether was successful in keeping Sinister at bay for a time, such an option was slowly becoming obsolete. Havik removed his foot from the dark fiend and started snapping his fingers in his direction but quickly realized that, since he was not of the realms, that he was not subject to The One Being’s own power of assimilation. Sinister had transformed into the petulant child Schema, Alastor, dripping with the virulent ichor of the Nether during his ascent. A permanent scowl was carved into the child’s androgynous face as he stared down The One Being with a burning purple glare. “Edu...edu!”

     “What the fuck did he say?” Kabal leaned in to whisper to Nightwolf, wondering if he could decipher this odd language. But instead of hearing an answer, he stood to witness Sinister start to bludgeon Havik with blows that ripped chunks of the Pyramid of Argus from its very foundation. Before long, the two ascended into the skies with the very essence of Aether and Nether clashing to create violent natural disasters that ebbed and flowed throughout the realms. The last of the kombatants hurried from the steps of the pyramid as it began to collapse, the earth beginning to swallow it whole. All that soon remained was a great void with the encapsulated view of all realms slowly delving into the chaos these two titans were creating with their clash.

     But it was from that void, that haunting chasm, that Nightwolf sensed a truly malevolent force. There was a great draw, a calling that nearly possessed him to approach its edge with limbs struggling to resist such a morbid temptation. Kabal caught him by the arm only to have his eyes drawn to the same abyss. Both of them struggle to speak, to resist but their slow, staggered steps toward it were evidence of their bodies’ betrayal. From behind them, Sento gleamed and prompted Takeda to shout. “Stay away from there! Both of you! Don’t look at the hole!”

     Before Takeda could finish warning them, Sinister’s lieutenant, Srejj Goonth, emerged from the dark void clad in his usual trench coat and bowler hat. His bloody mustache dripped with fresh liquid as those arachnid eyes peered out from beneath the shadow of his hat, burly bear arms slouching into his rather large coat pockets. He craned his neck to the skies where blue and black blurs, representative of Sinister and The One Being’s stalemated clash, continued, only to sigh. Hovering over the great chasm, he eventually came to rest his hind paws inches away from the edge, facing Kabal and Nightwolf. “Right. I’m afraid Lord Maharana has given as much mercy as he will at this point in time. The Vantablack Genesis will commence, starting with you two. Though, I would rather not get involved personally unless Lord Maharana wills it so.”

     Dashing beyond Kabal and Nightwolf, Geras smashed his body into Srejj’s, sending them tumbling into the gaping hole. The echoing sounds of a roaring grizzly and fists cracking against bone could be heard for all of ten seconds. Beyond that, their descent muffled any source of light or life, leaving both of their fates a mystery. However, the call of the void seemed to cease, the desire to be devoured leaving both Kabal and Nightwolf as they were only inches away from tipping inside that endless black. Nightwolf was the first to speak up. “Reality is becoming...fluid. Ripping itself apart. If we do not stop The One Being and Sinister, their very battle will destroy all that is.”

     “Yeah? And how in the hell do we fight people who can warp dimensions? What do we do?” For once, Kabal couldn’t seem to justify his brute force approach, his hands intermittently trembling with each thunderous blow that landed between the primordial forces above. 

     “We divide and conquer. The One Being can only achieve Armageddon as long as he’s whole but if the Kamidogu can be divided, then the realms will return to normal. If I can get close enough to strike him with Sento, I should be able to disrupt his force with the power of my ancestors.” Takeda spun his katana, drawing it out to his side. “But we need someone to keep Sinister busy or else he’ll murder all three of us.”

     A solemn expression solidified on Nightwolf’s face as he looked between Takeda and Kabal, speaking as plainly as he could. “I will take on Sinister.”

     “Head-on? He’s playing cosmic pinball with the literal god of this place.” Kabal gripped his hook swords tighter, trying to battle the doubt that was welling up inside him.

     “The spirits show favor with you, Kabal. Do not let the common plague of doubt cloud your mind.” Nightwolf gently patted his shoulder as he walked away from the large crater, coming to kneel in a rocky clearing. “Only the chosen defender can stand a chance against the great black beast. I will help guide you to victory but I will not be there to help you sever the head from its shoulders. Right now, Sinister is enraged, full of pride and anger. Like a moth to flame, I will draw him from Wakan Tanka so that you may face him. My life should be enough.”

     “But...:” Kabal started to protest but Nightwolf was unflinching, seated with eyes closed.

     “Go. Ready yourself to face him. When you see the pillar of light, destroy the beast.” Nightwolf’s palms pressed together as Kabal and Takeda moved away, leaving him to chant in Lakota. His pulse quickened, his eyes became awash in the energy of his ancestral spirits and he soon started to stand to his feet. The chanting grew louder, more enunciated and far more powerful than the blows that were being traded above him. His feet stomped against the earth, hands clapped and an otherworldly melody was interwoven in his mantra. After a solid minute of this ritual, Sinister's assault against The One Being stopped and his stone cold gaze was locked on Nightwolf.

     Time stopped as eons of rage bolted to Nightwolf's position faster than anyone could hope to react to. Exactly what Nightwolf planned on doing to stop the hellacious black blur was unknown, at least until they heard a cry. It was a soulful, heart-rending hybridization of Nightwolf screaming into the night and a wolf's thunderous howl, climaxing in a pillar of spiritual energy that tore through the stratosphere. The blinding light bathed Nightwolf completely, evaporating his body and rending Sinister's to but a husk that skid across the crater floor, twitching.

     The once furious child of shadow had been reverted back to the usual fiend the Mortal Kombat universe had the displeasure of experiencing the past few years, lending credence to Nightwolf's words. While Takeda couldn't visualize the fate that befell the shaman, Kabal had the discomforting pleasure of viewing the final moments of Nightwolf's skeleton standing upright. Finger bones were clenched with such tightness so as to pierce his own flesh, his jaw widened to fully embrace the pain of its limit. With a ribcage pushed out and skull aimed to the sky, the whole structure soon evaporated into dust, leaving only the memory of his sacrifice.

     Before they could settle into a disposition of grief, Kabal and Takeda took their places among the damned, blades drawn in anxiety. While Kabal slowly approached Sinister's downed body, Takeda  was greeted with the descending light of The One Being flooding his power through Havik's body. His fingers were already prepared to snap him from existence, watching Sento glow brighter than it ever had before. His voice was blunt and grim toward the sightless samurai. "Put down your sword and die."

     "I will die when I'm ready." Takeda gripped Sento with both hands, bending his knees and bringing the side of the blade near his cheek. With the edge of the sword aimed at The One Being, and his blindfolded face turned slightly to the side, he engaged. He heard the ominous snapping of the god's fingers, his heart skipping a beat when he realized he wasn't as doomed as Kronika. Part of him believed it was the sword's supernatural properties or maybe he was just lucky. Instead of dwelling on the fragility of his existence, Takeda honed in on the advice of his ancestors and executed a broad diagonal slash, shifting his body to the side shortly afterward. 

     He couldn't hear the usual rush of blood or feel the vibrating impact of steel against bone. It was like he sliced right through the air and the weightlessness of his attempt only heightened his fear. The throbbing of his heart bludgeoned his innards with a tongue that started to run dry. He tried to remember Nightwolf's words, to reject the creeping shadows of doubt but The One Being's laughter was too strong of a catalyst for the divisive emotion. "Do you think that sword can hurt me, Takahashi Takeda? Emulating your fool of a father won't help you, no matter how many ancestors you draw strength from. Here, let me demonstrate."

_ CRRRK! CLINK! _

 

     Takeda was brought to the height of fear when he heard steel clattering against the ground and felt his sword becoming lighter. Swallowing became an unbearable task and the tremors were coming easily, much to The One Being's amusement. "But….Sento…"

     "It is an enchanted sword. Nothing more. I am god and you are just a figment of my imagination gone wild. You know, I didn't want this. Any of this. I never wanted any being to go through the agony of existence." The One Being started encircling Takeda with slow, calculated steps, letting the calm rasp of Havik's voice blend with his own. "I knew from the very beginning that there would only be suffering and death, making the existence of this reality useless. The very nature of letting things come to be was a trial in masochism. I tried to devour the Elder Gods before it happened but they trapped me within these Kamidogu and for a great time, I had to watch the suffering I tried to stop come to pass."

     "You say all this like everyone's lives, trials and experiences are meaningless just...just because they'll all be destroyed in the end. And you're wrong." Takeda continued to clutch the handle of a broken Sento, starting to calm himself with his own existential plea. As he did, his spiritual sight started to clear and he could visualize the Kamidogu floating about inside Havik's body. "You can't try to justify genocide. There's no meaning, no place for it."

     The One Being's hand began its descent toward Takeda's head with Aether gleaming at his fingertips. "I don't expect you to understand. You are but a passing dream."

     "No. A nightmare, given form!" With a swift thrust of his broken blade, Takeda swayed away from his hand and thrust the damaged steel into Havik's sternum. As the sword sank into Havik's body, splintering bone and rupturing blood vessels, hands started to rip through his innards. Ghastly, spectral limbs emerged from the sword, no longer contained inside, to grasp at the Kamidogu that sat within his body. In the same instance, The One Being dug his bony fingers into Takeda's eyes, tearing through his blindfold to set the swordsman's lungs alight with a bloodcurdling scream.

     Kabal was carefully examining Sinister's twitching body, poking and prodding with his hook swords. Though, every time he tried to dig the blades into his inky flesh, a pulse of Nether would drive him back. His investigative efforts were interrupted by Takeda's scream but before he could rush to help him, the damage had been done. The Kamidogu rocketed in different directions out of a blinding flash, carried by Takeda's ancestors. Kabal watched as the realms receded, fading back into their respective dimensions while the Edenian crater returned to its usual barren landscape. "Takeda! Are you okay?!"

     Takeda could barely speak. Trembling on his knees, the protective shell of his exoskeleton had shredded open like the flesh of a fruit. From face to navel, his skin was suffering from second and third degree burns. His lips, crisp with jagged fissures, scraped together to try and form words. Skull fractured with blood seeping from its cracks and the pulp of what were once eyes barely attached to the socket, he managed to get out a few words before he dropped what remained of Sento. "St...stop...him….please…"

     Kabal felt himself raised painfully off the ground, looking down to see his chest impaled by Sinister's hand. Though he tried to free himself, Sinister tossed him to the ground before he even got a chance to struggle, leaving both he and Takeda to writhe in pain. The malevolent shadow towered over them with a cheeky grin, letting the Nether cover him like a veil. "Just as Achlys predicted. The only remaining kombatants kneeling before their father and the false god banished back to obscurity. Though a bit rough, this game of chess has been very entertaining. But my mercy hasn't depleted, even if we are on the brink of the Vantablack Genesis. Surrender yourself to me and I will heal your wounds. I will infuse you with my power and restore your lands to something worth living in. I will craft your paradise. Just say the word and this pain will go away, Kabal."

     Takeda's breathing was raspy, his face unmoving while tears struggled to creep from his eyes. Kabal forced himself off the ground with the help of his hook swords, digging them into the ground for stability. Through gritted teeth and staggered breaths, he spoke his piece. "You know...I've been waiting for this moment ever since you offed Kenshi. I've had dreams about killing you. Tearing you apart with my bare fucking hands. If it wasn't….for Fujin, I would've hunted you down….and collected your head."

     Sinister stepped closer to him, looking down with a condescending smile. "Yet here I am and not one move against me. How bittersweet is it that the tables have turned since our brief time at the temple? But, unlike Kenshi who was already dead, you have the chance to save his son who sits behind you. I can feel him clinging to life after battling the One Being. His fingers barely clutch the cliff as he dangles over the pit of death. Will you risk everything just for revenge? Personal desire? Or finally let go so that he can live the life his father was unable to?"

     "So damn...sick of hearing you talk...like some...cartoon character….but you're right." Kabal closed his eyes, letting Fujin's wisdom alleviate his worries. His ragged gasps slowed into calm, tempered breathing as he dropped his hook swords. Arms stretched out to his sides with a bowed head while blood dripped from his wound. "If I have to give my life for Takeda, for Earthrealm, then I will."

     "Very good, my son. You made the right choice." Sinister's hands thrust into Kabal's fresh injury and tore his body in two, haphazardly tossing either part sloppily against the ground below. He stepped through the fresh mist of blood on his way to Takeda to assess his injuries. As his hand descended to come bless him with the corrupting element of Nether, his entire arm was severed by Kabal's hook sword. "What?!"

     At first, he couldn't see how the hook sword could have injured him with such precision, watching it float above the ground to join the other one. But what came into view next only infuriated him further, forcing him to gnash his teeth in utter disgust. Takeda was left to continue clinging to life while Sinister came face to face with the spectral embodiment of Kabal, the Aether Avatar. "Have you ever done this, Maharana? Sacrificed? Your body? Your mind? Your wishes and desires? To become the only thing that could save your world, knowing you could never be a  _ person _ again? That you would forever be a  _ force _ , a pillar of responsibility? I never understood it until now. And I happily embrace it."

     "Scum!" The sky immediately turned black and the only source of light to be found anywhere was emanating from Kabal's Aetheric spirit, his eyes beaming with the primordial power of a god. Sinister's rage was peaking. "I will rid this place of the heretical element of Aether. There will be no more Kombat, no more resistance!"

     As Sinister started toward Kabal, he ran into the much faster individual in the process, finding that his body was being hugged. Kabal's arms tightly clutched around Sinister's body to hold him in place while he struggled to break free. His black skin steamed and started to burst into cyan flames from the contact, having him realize in horror that Kabal's element was pure. Untainted. His superior. "You're right. There will be no more Kombat, at least from you. See, you want a knock down, drag out fight. You solve your problems with manipulation and murder. Common traits of the power you wield. But now, you can understand how bewildered I was when I first held Aether. The cooling flame that laps at your bones, the overwhelming peace that extinguishes hate. It's not the power that burns you, it's your unworthiness. You feel just how good and pure it is and just can't relate. You're on a whole other dimension from this utterly beautiful force that formed the universe. So you have to destroy yourself, everything you are, so that you can become the element."

     "LET GO OF ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Sinister tried to call upon more of his Nether, growing nearly ten times his size with copious amounts of muscle lining his frame. He bounced between a hulking beast and the petulant, violent child they had seen earlier, both easily contained by Kabal's simple hug. His screams shattered the ground and rended the skies with ear-splitting thunder. Soon, his body started to shift into an amorphous, liquid beast with elongated, sharpened teeth. Thousands of heterochromatic eyes swam across the surface, all glaring at Kabal. But each attempt was quelled, having him return to his usual form. "RELEASE ME!"

     "No more bodies to resurrect from. No more energy to summon from the realms. No more followers to call upon. Your power is deceptive and self-destructive. You're the architect of your own checkmate, Sinister. Evil always defeats itself." As seconds passed, the darkness started to burn away with an ever-expanding sphere of Aetheric light that illuminated the crater and, soon, all of Edenia. One hand moved from Sinister's torso to grab at his face, forcing them to have direct eye contact, an action that burned at Sinister's very soul. Beyond Kabal's visage, he could see the progenitor, the Pantheon God Aether, staring back at him, the inescapable light of the gods  "Now and forever, Sinister Maharana, BEGONE!"

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

**_Ten Years Later_ **

 

     "So, what happened next?!" A child approaching adolescence bounced on his colorful bed, eyes gleaming as they looked at the smiling swordsman, Takeda.  

     "When you're older, we can discuss things in detail. Honestly, I didn't plan on telling you this story until you were older." Takeda stood up off the bed to stretch his back, wearing a tank top and pajamas that hugged his scarred muscles. He stroked his thick beard with a smile. "But maybe if you do well with your training with Master Hasashi tomorrow, I'll explain some of the weirder stuff. Now, get some rest."

     "Aw, but it's just nine o' clock! Can't you just tell me a little bit more?" The child protested but soon settled under his covers when Takeda turned off the room lights.

     "Soon. For now, rest. Good night." Takeda heard his son respond in kind before he left the room, closing his door. Moonlight poured into the darkened hallway through a single-pane window, giving an almost ethereal feel to his home. On his way down the hallway to his room, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He leaned against the small balcony above the stairwell, answering the phone to Stryker's voice. "Ah, Lieutenant Stryker. Calling this late?"

     "Didn't wake you did I? Besides, aren't you meditating around this time or something?" Sounds of military boots stomping about and radio chatter could be heard in the background from Stryker's end as he tried to find a quieter area.

     "I was  _ about _ to but I have a bit of time to talk with an old friend." Takeda rested an arm along the banister.

     "Well, if it weren’t for Kabal doing what he did, I’d still be friends with the worms. I miss him.” Stryker exhaled, still walking away from the ruckus. “I’m glad you were able to at least live to tell the story, though. You’re the only one who’s lived it, made sure we don’t have to experience Armageddon again.”

     “I miss him too. But I know he’s in the realms, somewhere. Just as a force rather than a person, same as my ancestors that once rested in Sento.” Takeda ran a hand through his hair, tracing across the jagged scars that lined his temples. “I just wish my dad could have come back, too.”

     “He’d be proud of you and his grandkid, Takeda. Look, I know you passed some communication to Special Forces about Operation Whiteout and making sure that you-know-who was gone for good. Gotta say, for the umpteenth time, there's no sign of him anywhere. No followers, no copycats, not even a trace of that weird Nether stuff." Stryker shouted at one of his subordinates not to touch something at the tail end of his explanation.

     "If that's the case, couldn't it have waited until morning? I don't understand why you're calling so late? Are you on a mission?" Takeda arched his brows, hearing his son tossing and turning in his creaky bed.

     "Yeah, I  _ would _ have but there's a caveat this time. We found something. It looks like it's been here for years, decades even. It's a building in the middle of the Living Forest. If we hadn't used our infrared goggles tonight, we never would have found it. It looks like some huge spire, a black tower. It doesn't look like it was built. It's like the damn thing grew right out of the ground, roots and all." Takeda heard a small creak on the steps below him, swallowing hard as he continued to listen. "I would've thought it was just another Outworld thing, you know? But it has that Greek Theta symbol on it, right on the front doors. Looking at it, the---Peters, I told you not to touch that. Shit!"

 

_ DAMN, IT'S FAST! _

 

_ CALL IN GENERAL BLADE! NOW! _

 

_ FRANKIE! PETERS! HELP! _

 

_ IS THAT...A MAN?! _

 

   Takeda dropped his phone as screams and gunfire roared through the speaker, slowly turning about to see a small black figure standing as if it were ascending the stairs. Frozen, it remained in mid-step with a face, devoid of features, staring directly at Takeda. Sweat started to pour down his head as moonlight slowly brought the figure into a more detailed view. Fortunately, it was just a trick of the shadows, forcing him to exhale heavily and grip the banister. As he grabbed the phone from the floor, a familiar voice spoke to him through the speaker and his eyes became fixated on the room he just walked from. On the door he knew that, just seconds ago, was just closed. “So…”

     But now, it was wide open. The moonlight washed over everything in his son’s room except for the bed, which remained a murky black silhouette, as if it were rejecting the light itself. Sitting up on the bed, the outline of his son stared at him with eyes that pierced his spirit. Flecks of purple glistened from his gaze as he heard the ominous voice from the phone emerge from his son’s lips. “....what happened next?”

 

END


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